


Renovations

by distr0



Category: Kill la Kill
Genre: F/F, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Slow Burn, hardmode af
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:11:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 103,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6742309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distr0/pseuds/distr0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-finale. Ryuko moves back to Tokyo. Satsuki buys a new house. She has some things to work through, and Ryuko struggles with keeping her feelings at bay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy, u sinners ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Ryuko’s phone buzzing against the floor wakes her two hours into her nap. She’s sprawled over the new mattress the Mankanshokus helped her haul into the apartment just this morning, and because she hasn’t assembled the bedframe yet, she only has to slide her hand over about a foot to stop it from vibrating any further away. She makes a grumbling noise into her pillow – she had specifically told Mako not to call until tomorrow so that she could rest and unpack today. She lifts the screen to her face, and the name displayed there stops her thumb short of ending the call as she had originally intended.

Satsuki’s contact info is saved under ‘Kiryuin’ in her phone. She hasn’t seen her sister since her graduation from Rinne High School in the spring, and has only called her a handful of times since then – to update her on her summer job, and to discuss her move back to Tokyo. They had meant to meet up several times, but what with business overseas and rebuilding the Kiryuin conglomerate from the ground up, time never seemed to be in their favor.

Ryuko sits up straight and tries to blink the sleepiness out from her eyes. She feels her pulse quicken when she accepts the call and brings the phone up to her ear.

“Oi, Satsuki. What’s up?”

“You’ve arrived in Tokyo this morning, correct?” She hears her sister ask across the line. Straight to the point as always.

“Yea, Mako and her folks moved all my stuff in this morning. They left for Kanagawa again just a few hours ago.” She pauses, standing up off the mattress to make her way towards the kitchen. “Why?”

“Are you busy at the moment?”

“Not particularly,” Ryuko replies noncommittally as she digs through the cupboards for a box of cereal. She’s trying to keep the curiosity out of her voice.

“Do you want to come down to the house, then? There’s something I want your help with.” She pauses, then adds as an afterthought, “I think it’ll be fun.”

“At the manor?”

“No, the new place I bought,” Satsuki tells her. Ryuko had completely forgotten, in her focus on her own move, that her sister had mentioned selling off the manor for something new. “I’ll text you the address.”

“Hey, hold on a sec I didn’t say I–” The dial tone indicating Satsuki has hung up cuts her off midsentence. About a second later, she receives the text message with the address as promised. It’s not terribly far; she could make it over on her bike in a half hour.

Ryuko glances over at the cereal on the counter – no milk, because she hasn’t gone out to buy groceries yet – and then at the few boxes strewn around the rest of the apartment. She decides the stuff can sit until tomorrow, picks up her clothes from where she threw them earlier on the couch, and quickly dresses herself before heading out the door.

* * *

 

The address leads her to private road branching off from the main streets of a quiet neighborhood, and the further she follows it, the more she feels sequestered from the outside world. The house itself is nowhere near the size of the Kiryuin Manor, but it’s still larger than necessary – just about the size of the rundown mansion Ryuko grew up in.

The rumbling of her motorcycle must have given her presence away, because she barely has time to shut the engine off before Satsuki steps out onto the porch, leaving the front door wide open behind her. She’s wearing a tank top and sweat pants, and Ryuko freezes for a second because she’s never seen Satsuki wear something so casual in her life. She’s thankful for the time the walk up the driveway affords her to recompose herself.

“That was quick,” is all Satsuki has to offer in way of greeting, but when Ryuko meets her eyes she can see a soft smile there, one that hasn’t quite reached her lips.

“Yea, well, you had me curious.” Ryuko flashes her a grin, all teeth, and Satsuki hums in response before turning back into the house, calling over her shoulder for Ryuko to follow her in.

The place is completely empty, has a distinctive new-house smell, and the floors of some of the rooms are covered completely over by large canvas drop cloths. Ryuko curls her nose up as the smell of paint hits her when she walks into what she assumes to be the living room.

“I already sponged the walls down and everything, I just realized this job might be over with more quickly if I had someone to lend a hand,” Satsuki says as she walks over to the paint buckets positioned at the center of the room. She toes at one of the rollers lying on the floor before looking up at Ryuko, who’s standing by the door with her hands buried in her jacket pockets.

“If Mom left enough cash lyin around to buy a place like this, don’t ya think we have enough to hire painters too?” Satsuki knows the annoyance in Ryuko’s voice is more for show than anything else, because she’s already taken off her jacket and tossed it in the corner of the room by the time she’s finished speaking.

“I don't want painters. Besides, I want to make this place my own in as many ways as I can,” Satsuki answers her question honestly. “I think living in the manor was starting to drive me mad. I don’t know why I didn’t do this sooner.”

“Better late than never.” Ryuko’s standing by her side now, looking down into the paint buckets at their feet.

“Oi, what kind of shitty color is this?” she asks as soon as she sees the buckets’ contents. Satsuki expression turns stony, impassive.

“It’s called an earth tone,” she says. “I want the living room to be more neutral, especially if I’ll need to host work-related events at some point.”

“Earth tone, my ass,” Ryuko’s tone becomes more drawled out in her teasing. “Who helped you pick this out?”

“Ryuko, if I trusted your taste in aesthetics, every room in the house would be plastered bright red, and covered from wall to wall with posters.”

“Ain’t nothing wrong with red or posters. But hey, if you want your living room the color of mud that’s your call.” A paintbrush has found it’s way into her hand now, and she gesticulates with it as she speaks, pointing it in Satsuki’s direction. “I’d have guessed you’d paint your place blue or something.”

Satsuki’s fingers circle Ryuko’s wrist for an instant as she pushes the paintbrush away from her face.

“I bought the house, so I’ll decide how to paint it,” she says firmly before relinquishing her grip. “Besides, I’m saving the blue for my room,” she adds when Ryuko doesn’t say anything.

“Alright, alright.” Ryuko grumbles something beneath her breath as she carries the paint buckets closer to the wall. Satsuki follows with the rollers and the trays, which she lies down by her sister’s feet for her to fill.

As she pours the paint out of the buckets, Ryuko makes the mistake of glancing up at Satsuki, who is busy pulling her hair up into a ponytail. It’s grown a fair bit since she sliced it off at the graduation ceremony, reaching a couple of inches past her shoulders. She pulls an elastic band from her wrist with her teeth, and ties her hair back with practiced efficiency.

“Ryuko, watch what you’re doing,” Satsuki’s voice breaks her train of thought and snaps her attention back to the task at hand.

“Ah, sorry,” she manages, ducking her head down as she returns her focus to the paint tray. She feels the tips of her ears burn red, and hopes it either goes unnoticed, or is attributed to embarrassment over the near-spillage. It isn’t the first time she’s felt warm tension seize her like this around Satsuki, but she prefers not to think about it too much. The implications raise questions and feelings and potential complications she doesn’t necessarily feel up to facing.

“You should tie yours up, too,” Satsuki tells her. She then removes another elastic band from her wrist and holds it out to Ryuko, who takes it from her hand and does up her hair in a small ponytail. It’s a little palm tree of a stub at the back of her head.

“Thanks.”

“Also, try not to be too messy if you’re at all attached to the clothes you’re wearing,” Satsuki continues.

“Nah don’t worry, I stole this shirt from Mako. I don’t wear it much anyway.” Satsuki holds back a smile as she looks closer at the shirt in question, realizing Mako’s previous ownership must explain its relative looseness around her sister’s chest.

* * *

 

Ryuko is intent on painting the biggest wall first, and after Satsuki gives her the rundown on how to best use the roller, they begging laying down the first coat. It becomes repetitive rather quickly, and Ryuko finds her arm hurting by the time they’re halfway done with the room. If Satsuki suffers from the same predicament, she shows no sign of it whatsoever, so Ryuko refrains from voicing any complaints. It’s not fun work, and it’s a bit boring – but she hasn’t seen Satsuki in almost five months, and the sun’s warmth seems carried in through the open windows by the soft summer breeze. There’s a glowing feeling growing in her chest.

“Hey, I was thinking,” Satsuki’s voice suddenly calls her attention. Ryuko keeps painting, but shifts her gaze over to see her sister has paused what she’s doing. There’s a small streak of ‘earth tone’, as Satsuki had called it, by her right cheekbone where she had shoved away a strand of hair one wall back.

“What?” Ryuko asks, turning her attention back to rolling the paint on, exactly the way she had been shown.

“Well, I was just realizing…” she’s struggling, or hesitating, to finish forming her thought. Ryuko’s curiosity is piqued but she holds her silence. “I mean, now that you’re back in Tokyo – I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before, especially since I’ve been looking into buying a place…” Satsuki can feel herself rambling, and steels herself to drive her words to the point.

“If you want, you’re more than welcome to stay here,” she says. Ryuko stops the roller where she’s been going over the wall too many times to count now.

“Stay here?” she repeats dumbly.

“That way you don’t have to pay rent for an apartment,” Satsuki continues. “There are extra bedrooms; you can choose whichever one you’d like. I’ll even let you choose what color to paint it.” Her eyes are smiling teasingly as her last comment, and it seems to pull Ryuko’s thoughts into focus again.

“Are you sure?” she asks. “I mean, you haven’t even settled in yet or anything… Plus– wait shit. I already signed a six month lease on the apartment.”

“We can just find a subletter.” Satsuki’s answer is so quick she might very well have thought through every argument before opening the topic up for conversation. Ryuko has to stop herself from fiddling with the roller in her hands.

“Unless you would rather live on your own, of course,” Satsuki adds when she receives no response. She swallows thickly – the anticipation of rejection has her suddenly tensed up.

“No, no, it’s not that,” Ryuko corrects her quickly. “Fuck no, it’s not that. Seventeen years living alone is plenty… I just – I want to make sure you’re sure about it. I know this move is meant to be a clean slate for you and whatever.”

“Ryuko, would I have offered if I wasn’t sure?” Satsuki’s tone is lighter again as she feels a weight lift from her chest. Ryuko concedes with a sigh.

“Alright, alright,” she says, putting her sharp canines on display as she gives her sister a smile. “You got me.” Satisfied by the answer, Satsuki smiles in return and leans down to run the roller through the tray at her feet.

“Damn though, I really wish I hadn’t signed that lease now,” Ryuko mumbles as she keeps painting. “Or moved all my shit in. At least I didn’t unpack yet.”

“I would have offered sooner if I had thought of it… We just haven’t seen much of each other lately, and things have been busy for me with Revocs.”

“I know, I know, I didn’t mean anything by it.” Ryuko feels badly for complaining. “Thanks, by the way,” she adds gruffly. Satsuki hums in response, eyes still turned away from her.

“I should be thanking you for accepting the offer,” she says. “I’m glad that this is happening – starting afresh together means a lot.”

“Oi, don’t be getting all sentimental now,” Ryuko teases, though her cheeks have lightly flushed over at Satsuki’s words. “We still gotta finish painting.”

Satsuki almost rolls her eyes but decides not to say anything more on the subject, and continues layering paint onto the wall. They go on this way as they finish the living room and the room following it, talking about little things and catching each other up on the few months they’ve spent in each other’s absence.

* * *

 

Ryuko had been volunteering at a summer camp, and helping out at the Mankanshokus’ clinic in her free time. Mako was officially working there now that they had graduated, and they both got to see a fair amount of Gamagori given that his family’s ironworks were nearby. Satsuki fills her in on the rest of the Elites, although she hasn’t seen as much of them as she would have liked over the course of the past year. Nonon, who has been preparing to take over the family company, has been easier to meet up with than the rest given her location and flexible schedule. Sanageyama, on the other hand, has moved back north and has been harder to get in touch with, and Inumuta and Iori have been busy attending university.

Ryuko has already heard a lot of what Satsuki tells her, either from Mako or Gamagori, but she enjoys their steady conversation and the sound of her voice, so it doesn’t bother her in the least. Satsuki experiences much of the same when Ryuko relates news of the Mankanshokus, but she hangs on to every word when her sister talks about working at the camp. Her eyes light up throughout most of her stories, and she thinks Ryuko’s decision to pursue a career with children couldn’t be more perfect.

By the time they’re finishing up Satsuki’s room – a pretty blue, as promised – the conversation has significantly wound down, and they sit in a silence that is comfortable for the most part. They’ve come down to applying the finishing touches, and Ryuko is growing impatient in her urge to finish painting, especially after she notices the sunlight has begun to wane away.

“Hey, let me do the top of the windows and the ceiling,” she says to her sister. “I want to climb on the ladder.”

“Sure, I don’t mind.” Satsuki stops climbing halfway up the ladder and hops down to sit beneath the window. She pulls her bucket of paint closer before dipping her brush in, and then carefully raises it up to the underside of the window frame where it meets the wall. It’s the most painstaking part of the whole process, but with two people it goes by fairly quickly. She glances up at Ryuko to see how she’s doing.

“Remember to wipe the brush off a bit against the bucket before laying the paint down,” she tells her. “That way it won’t glob up.”

“Yea, I got it, I got it,” comes Ryuko’s answer. It’s about the third time Satsuki’s told her. She can feel herself rushing to get the job done, though. A few times, paint does collect in little bubbles on the wall, and she has to run the brush over a second time to smooth it out.

It’s when she’s wiping the excess paint of her brush, just as Satsuki had instructed, that she carries the motion through a bit too heavy-handedly. The bucket, which she had place beside her on the topmost step of the ladder, suddenly goes teetering out of balance at her touch.

“Shit.” Ryuko makes to grab at it, but it’s already too late. It goes falling towards the ground, and Satsuki raises her head just in time to see what’s about to happen – but not quickly enough to move herself out of the way.

Ryuko’s self restraint hits the roof as she barely stops herself from falling into a fit of roaring laughter.

“Satsuki oh my god I’m sorry.” The words rush out of her as she makes her way quickly down the ladder, and although she tries to mask it, there’s still a hint of amusement in her voice. Her restraint officially gives way when she sees the amount of paint that’s fallen over her sister’s head.

“Holy shit you’re gonna be blue for days,” she breathes out between her chuckling.

“Matoi, I’m sure this is objectively hilarious, but a bit of help would be appreciated,” she snaps, trying not to swallow paint as she opens her mouth to speak. The use of her surname has the desired effect, because Ryuko hustles to grab one of the rags lying on the floor a few feet away.

“Alright, hold on I got you” she tells her, rushing back to her with the cloth in hand. She kneels down beside her and tilts her head up with a hand against her forehead. “Keep your eyes shut.”

Slowly and carefully, Ryuko wipes the paint away from where it’s fallen over her eyelids. Thankfully, most of it has leaked down over the sides of her face, so none of it seems to have gotten into her eyes. She then moves to quickly wipe her brow, and with the last clean side of the rag, runs it down over her cheeks.

Satsuki, who has sensed that’s it’s alright for her to open her eyes again, is looking away from Ryuko. Her eyelashes flutter rapidly as she tries to blink off the specs of paint stuck to them. As Ryuko continues wiping away layers of blue from her face, she finds a startling shade of pink has blossomed over Satsuki’s cheeks under her touch.

“Hey, come on, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Ryuko’s tone or word choice must have come across the wrong way, because Satsuki suddenly aims a glare her way. “After all, blue’s your co–”

She’s cut off when she feels a wetness streak along both sides of her face, and realizes her sister has smeared the paint off her hands and onto her cheeks.

“Oi, Kiryuin,” Ryuko growls out, slurring through vowels and rolling her r’s. “Shitty way to treat someone who’s helping your ass.”

“You’re the reason I’m in this state in the first place,” Satsuki is quick to bite back. Ryuko is suddenly tempted to dip her hand in paint and pay her back with a handprint to the face.

She realizes, though, that Satsuki would have nothing to loose in a paint fight at the moment, because she’s already covered from head to toe. Her own jeans, on the other hand, are relatively clean, and she intends on saving them if she can. She lets out a sigh and then lifts herself to her feet.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” she says, extending her hand out to Satsuki, who looks up at Ryuko in vague disbelief. She had expected her to rise to the bait, and retaliate in full for the paint on her cheeks. It makes her look something of a warrior now. Satsuki is sure that she, on the other hand, looks absolutely ridiculous. She takes her sister’s hand, lets her pull her up to stand beside her.

“I guess this warrants a shower,” she says to herself, looking down at the mess that’s fallen over her clothes. She cringes at the thought of the paint surely already drying up in her hair.

“Do you have anything to change into?” Ryuko asks her.

“Yea, I think I have something in the car.”

“I can get it for you, go get started on the shower.” Before she can say anything, Ryuko’s already out the door and running down the stairs.

* * *

 

When Satsuki emerges from the shower a good while later, she finds a fresh shirt and a pair of pants clumsily folded on floor, which she quickly changes into. She’s managed to wash the vast majority of the paint out of her hair, and picks at any visible specks as she looks at herself across the mirror. Once she’s satisfied with her appearance, she leaves the bathroom to find that Ryuko has already finished off painting her room. The buckets of paint and the rollers are gone, and now she wonders how long her shower took.

The resounding sound of heavy footsteps against the stairs is followed by Ryuko’s head sticking out from behind the railing a second later.

“Hey, you’re out,” she says. “I just finished cleaning up. Put it all downstairs. Not sure where you wanted it.”

“That’s perfect, thank you.” She walks down the stairs with Ryuko, paint-covered clothes in hand.

They keep all the windows open to air out the place, but Satsuki still closes the door behind them when they make their way out. Ryuko walks to her bike at the end of the driveway, swings her leg over it and then watches as Satsuki nears her car. She finds her voice when her sister’s hand reaches the handle to pull the door open.

“Hey, why don’t we go grab food?” she asks, smiling sheepishly. “I’m starving, and there’s this Thai place by the apartment that looks pretty good. We can get takeout.”

Satsuki pauses, considering the offer. She’s still technically on vacation at the moment – time she took of so that she could see to the new house – so she doesn’t have any pressing work to do.

“Sure, let’s do it.”

“Sweet!” Ryuko fist pumps into the air. Then, after a moment of hesitation, “And, uh, you can stay over at the apartment after if you want. Since it’s closer to here and everything – I know you don’t like the manor.”

It earns her a quirk of Satsuki’s eyebrow, but she gets a smile out of it too.

“Alright,” she sighs. “But we’re going to bed at a reasonable hour.” Ryuko nods enthusiastically.

As she revs up the engine, she almost offers Satsuki to ride on the back of the bike with her – but quickly bites back the invite when she practically hears the scoff she would likely receive in reply. She learned a while back that apparently Satsuki doesn’t do motorcycles, so she has to settle for riding slowly on their way to the apartment, allowing Satsuki to follow close behind in her car.


	2. Chapter 2

Ryuko hands Satsuki the keys to the apartment once they’ve parked, telling her to let herself in while she picks up food from the restaurant one block down. It’s a tall, narrow building that looks rather well maintained given the more modern buildings surrounding it. Satsuki examines the standard keychain tag in her hand – a piece of paper with the unit’s number written in black ink has been slipped inside. She finds the corresponding door on the fifth floor, unlocks it, and breathes in stale air when she enters. The place doesn’t carry any of Ryuko in it, not her smell or her presence whatsoever, which is easily explained by the boxes still strewn about the room. The space surrounding them is empty for the most part, aside from an old looking couch and a coffee table in the main room, and a mattress lying directly on the floor of the bedroom.

After her cursory look-over, Satsuki decides the apartment is actually fairly nice. It’s small and old, but the ceilings are high and the windows are large. The place feels spacious. Which is perhaps why the scarcity of objects in the room seems so glaring. She tallies up all the boxes in sight, a task that takes no time at all because they total up to a count of four. A feeling she has a hard time placing falls down like a weight over her chest –an urge to protect Ryuko, to hold her close.

Material possessions are not necessarily indicators of happiness, but the fact that her sister has only a handful of cardboard boxes to her name steeps a sudden sadness in her. The fortune behind the Kiryuin Conglomerate is technically also open for her to access, but even still – this feels different. This has been Ryuko’s lifestyle for the past eighteen years, she’s sure of it. And given Soichiro’s resources, Satsuki can guess that Ryuko’s lack of personal possessions growing up was likely due to negligence rather than insufficient funds. Their father had chosen, arguably by necessity, to funnel his money and time solely into Nudist Beach and life fiber research.

Since learning her relation to Ryuko, she’s wondered several times how often they had both found themselves feeling alone in their own homes as children, when the other’s support and company might have been needed. She was happy and willing to offer that support now. When she was being held at Honnouji Academy by her mother after her rebellion, a part of her had been crushed at the thought that Ryuko would perhaps never forgive her for her behavior – would never allow her to show the warmth and care she had always harbored at the thought of her little sister.

 _Little sister_. Even now, over a year after the eradication of the life fibers, she still struggles to piece together what exactly their relationship constitutes. Sororal affection is certainly one piece of the equation, but at the same time, they share nearly nothing of upbringing aside from parents that could have stood to be more caring. The things she’s learned about Ryuko as a person, she’s learned through the crossings of swords, betrayals and alliances… and whatever relation it is that they have now.

Satsuki is startled off her train of thought by a loud banging at the door. She rushes over to open it, and Ryuko stumbles in at once, holding several bags in her arms.

“Got the food,” she says, moving past her and dropping everything on the kitchen counter. “Sorry if I took a while, I stopped by grocery store too.”

“What did you get?”

“Just some breakfast stuff for tomorrow. Figured we’ll be hungry.” She reaches into the plastic bag and withdraws from it a carton of milk, which she places in the otherwise empty fridge. Satsuki assumes it’s for the singular box of cereal already sitting in the kitchen. There are also muffins and fruits in the bag, but she leaves those on the counter.

“I wanted to buy you some tea, but then I remembered I don’t have a kettle or anything to make it in,” she adds, busying herself now with unwrapping their dinner from the last bag.

“Don't worry about it,” is all Satsuki manages. She’s a bit touched that Ryuko would have even thought to get it for her in the first place.

* * *

 

They sit on the couch together, cross-legged, and watch TV on Ryuko’s laptop as they eat. It’s more for background noise than anything else. Satsuki soon drifts in and out of her own thoughts, hardly following the action at all.

“Hey, can I try a bite of yours?” Ryuko asks. She’s still hasn’t finished the food in her mouth, and has to chew around her words.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” Satsuki tells her with a reproachful look. Ryuko rolls her eyes, and only once she’s swallowed does she receive an answer to her question. “And yes, you can have some now.”

She fishes through the contents of her takeout box, and then holds her chopsticks out to Ryuko. Her eyes are fixed onto her mouth as she leans in closer. A tightening warmth drops to Ryuko’s stomach before bringing a soft flush to creep over her face.

“H-hey, I can feed myself,” she mumbles quickly. She pushes Satsuki’s chopsticks aside with her own, and delves into the box herself to scoop up a bite. She shoves the food in her mouth as fast as possible, and suddenly seems very interested in what’s going on onscreen.

Satsuki, who sits frozen with her chopsticks still hovering in the air, takes a second before scooting back into place a couple inches down the couch. They don’t speak again until they’ve finished eating. Ryuko is first to lay her empty container down against the table, and after Satsuki stacks her own over top of it, there’s a sudden quiet in the apartment. The show they’ve been watching reaches the credits, and they watch them roll by on the screen for a minute. Satsuki glances over at Ryuko, who’s leaning against the armrest and occupying herself by looking through her phone disinterestedly.

“I know I’ve told you this before,” Satsuki starts herself up to speak about what’s been on her mind, “but all the money left in Ragyo’s wake – whatever amount of it that isn’t going towards reconstructing the company – is yours to access just as much as it is mine.”

Ryuko looks surprised by the new topic of conversation, because she’s dropped her phone to her lap and is now sitting up straight against the couch.

“I know,” she says quietly. “I just – I don’t know what I’d need it for right now, really.” Satsuki suddenly wishes she had a cup of tea to distract herself with, to hold in her hands and raise to her lips as she collects her thoughts before going on.

“Anything, really,” she says. “Anything you might need or want that’s within reason… I don’t know, I just wanted to remind you that it’s something that you can take advantage of now.”

“What, you’re not impressed by my lifestyle or something?” Ryuko snaps, thrown on the defensive.

“You know that’s not what I mean.” She placates her with a glare that has Ryuko instantly regretting her accusation. Satsuki thinks perhaps a more personal approach might convey what she’s thinking more effectively.

“Our parents weren’t the most caring of people,” she continues, on guard against her own emotions as much as she’s trying to hit the right notes with Ryuko. “I just meant to say that whatever lifestyle they made out for us growing up doesn’t need to be maintained in our adulthood, too.”

Ryuko lets out a huff in response.

“Yea, well I hardly knew Dad by the time he died anyway, so I can’t really say he built up any sort of lifestyle for me,” she says.

“If it makes you feel better, I hardly knew him either.” Satsuki meets Ryuko’s eyes when she doesn’t receive an answer, to see that they’ve grown distant, lost in thought.

“How was he, when you knew him?” she asks. “Was he nice?”

“Yes, he was. Frequently absorbed in research, but good to me whenever I saw him. He played with me when he could – and when that wasn’t an option, Soroi and other servants would take care of me instead. I think he’s been more of a father to me since then than Soichiro ever was.” Ryuko hums in thought at that.

“It’s still weird, hearing him called Soichiro, but I guess that was his real name, after all,” she thinks aloud. “Crazy to think that you can live with someone for seventeen years and not know something as simple as that.”

“I’m sure he felt as though there was no other option,” Satsuki says. “That if he could have concentrated his efforts away from Ragyo, he would have.” Again, Ryuko makes a vague noise acknowledging Satsuki’s comment.

“I guess the bright side to it all is that without his research and stuff, I never would have made it to Honnouji Academy – and then we never would have met,” she says, brightening up a bit. Satsuki though, still looks rather somber.

“Still, it’s no excuse to have left you with only a handful of boxes to your name,” she tells her.

“I mean the fire did burn up some stuff too…” Ryuko says. “And besides, ain’t it all relative? I’m sure it looks worse than it actually is if you’re comparing it to the stuff you had in the manor.”

“Believe it or not, I didn’t actually have many things to myself growing up,” Satsuki admits. “I know I can come across as… vain, but I never really had the time to think of buying things for myself– and Ragyo certainly wasn’t one for gift-giving.”

“Kiryuin Satsuki: busy plotting her vengeance since preschool,” Ryuko jokes. She’s trying to lighten the mood that’s fallen over them, but Satsuki doesn’t react at all. She’s staring down at her own hands, fixated on her thoughts until she feels a light jab against her forearm. She looks up to see that her sister has just leaned over to lay a punch against her side.

“Hey, I was kidding,” she says, smiling softly.

“You’re not wrong, though,” Satsuki responds. “After Dad left, things went downhill in the household and…” She pauses for a while, choking on some memory or another, until she swallows harshly before finding her voice again. “… My entire life became centered around ridding myself of her.”

She’s gone tense, and Ryuko doesn’t know exactly what to say. She’s sure reminding her that Ragyo is gone won’t help – she doesn’t doubt that Satsuki has reminded herself of the fact every day since her death.

“Hey, hold on a second, I wanna show you something,” Ryuko suddenly tells her when the idea pops into her head. She runs off into the bedroom, telling Satsuki to stay put before disappearing.

Satsuki remains relatively lost in thought, and only loosely registers the sound of cardboard and tape tearing in the other room. It’s only when Ryuko hurls something into her lap that her eyes fall into focus again. The object has hit her in the stomach, and almost rolls off onto the floor before she grabs ahold of it. It’s a stuffed pig just bigger than a softball.

“It’s one of the only toys I had when I was little,” Ryuko says. Satsuki looks up to watch her scratch at the back of her neck as she makes her way closer. “I remember having it forever, but I guess it must have been yours before Dad ran away with me.”

“I honestly can’t remember…” she admits, holding the pig up in front of her. “But I’m sure you’re right.”

“Y-you should have it.” Satsuki looks like she’s about to protest, but Ryuko continues before she can say anything. “Its best friend is a stuffed bear, so I can hold on to that one – and it was yours to start with anyway.”

“Ryuko, I don’t want-”

“Well _I_ want you to have it,” she tells her decisively. “Think of it as… a house warming gift or somethin.” Whatever heavy thoughts were on Satsuki’s mind a few minutes before seem to have been somewhat dispelled, but now a new emotion has gripped her as she stares from Ryuko to the stuffed toy in her hands.

“Thank you.” Her voice is small, and comes out more choked up that she thought it would. She clears her throat once. “Really, thank you.”

“Oi, Satsuki,” Ryuko says softly after an instance of silence. Satsuki is surprised when she feels a weight fall over her head, and looks up to see her sister is resting her hand atop it. “It’s getting late, we can head to bed it you want.”

“Yea, that’s a probably a good idea.” She’s smiling at Ryuko now, who removes her hand to let her stand up onto her feet.

* * *

 

Satsuki offers to take the couch when they discuss sleeping arrangements, but Ryuko quickly dissuades her when she mentions it was bought second-hand, and that she doesn’t have an extra pair of sheets to cover it up with. It’s hard to argue when the mattress is plenty big enough to share.

“I’ll use the bathroom first,” Ryuko tells her. “There’s a duffel bag by the bed with some clothes in it, you can use any of those shirts to sleep in.”

She ruffles through the bag in question as she listens to Ryuko brushing her teeth in the bathroom. She hasn’t brought a toothbrush for herself, and although she’s picky when it comes to self-hygiene, she figure toothpaste alone should be fine just for tonight and tomorrow morning.

She starts off trying not to mess up the clothes in the bag too much, but throws that thought out the window once she realizes Ryuko has hardly bothered folding anything. There are a number of shirts she’s never even seen her sister wear before, and she finally settles on one that feels soft beneath her fingers and looks to be longer than the rest. She quickly strips herself and pulls the shirt over her head. It drops just above mid-thigh, and although it isn’t meant to be form fitting, it hugs her tightly across her breasts. It’s not uncomfortable though, and the fabric feels nice against her skin.

When Ryuko returns, she’s already changed into her pajamas. She’s relieved to see that Satsuki has finished changing by that time – even though they’ve seen each other in much less, somehow nudity feels different without the context of life fibers.

“Hey, I love sleeping in that shirt!” she says when she sees the one she picked out. “It looks good on you.” The comment slips out before she thinks to hold it back. She figures Satsuki won’t think anything of it anyways – or at least tries to tell herself that, because she looks down at her feet when she becomes flustered nonetheless.

“Thanks.” Satsuki’s voice is laced with amusement. When their eyes meet again, Ryuko sees a glimmer there that makes her think she might get teased – but instead Satsuki just walks towards her, making her way to the door.

“Ah- there’s toothpaste and face wash in there if you need it,” Ryuko says quickly to fill in the silence. She catches herself looking at Satsuki’s chest, and tears her gaze away as she turns for the bed. She hopes her face isn’t as red as it feels. Satsuki makes a humming sound to indicate some sentiment of agreement, and then disappears into the main room.

Ryuko lets out a breath when she hears the bathroom door click shut behind her. Then, she pulls back the covers and rolls to the side of the bed farthest from bedroom’s entrance. She’s playing games on her phone by the time Satsuki’s done, and when she settles down to lie beside her, Ryuko gives no indication of noticing.

“I take you for a heavy sleeper,” Satsuki says. “Is my assumption correct?”

“Huh? Oh- yea, I sleep pretty heavy,” she says, momentarily lifting her gaze form the screen. “You?”

“I sleep lightly most of the time.”

“Coulda guessed that,” Ryuko says as she shuts off her phone and sets it on the floor beside her. “Do you snore?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Everyone snores a little.”

“I’m not familiar with that factoid,” Satsuki teases lightly. “So you snore, then?”

“I don’t know, give me the full report in the morning.” She drops her head heavily onto the pillow. “Anything else you need to know? I drool but I think that’s about it.”

“So long as you keep it on your pillow, I don’t care.”

“Alright, geez.” Ryuko’s lets out a half-embarrassed laugh. Satsuki then suddenly feels something nudging against her leg. It’s Ryuko’s foot.

“Oi, I bet you’re secretly a cuddler, Eyebrows,” she teases. “Is that why we’re playing twenty questions on sleeping habits? You're tryin to warn me? Because I don't-” She's cut off by a kick to the shin that makes her hiss between her teeth. She’s sure Satsuki is rolling her eyes, but she can’t tell for sure because she’s lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling.

“I actually don’t know,” she admits. “I’ve never shared a bed with anyone before, really.”

“Well, I tend to sprawl – just as a warning," Ryuko says. "But I’ll do my best to keep on my side.”

“Quite considerate of you, thank you.”

“Hey, no promises. Just shove me if I take up too much space, it won’t wake me up,” Ryuko tells her, reaching to turn off the small lamp sitting beside the mattress.

“Alright.” Ryuko doesn’t need to turn over to know she’s smiling, she can hear it in her voice. “Good night, Ryuko.”

“’Night, Sats,” she yawns back. She’s glad painting the house has worn her out today, because otherwise she isn’t sure how quickly she might have been able to find sleep with Satsuki lying just a foot within arm’s reach.

When she wakes up in the morning, she notices that she somehow kept her word, and has hardly shifted from the position in which she fell asleep. She hears Satsuki moving about in the kitchen, and heads out to find her already dressed and ready to start the day. She’s then informed, with a teasing lilt in Satsuki’s voice, that she doesn’t snore – but breathes deeply enough that one might mistake it for snoring.


	3. Chapter 3

The day they’ve scheduled the move turns out to hit the warmest temperatures they’ve seen all month. Satsuki drags Ryuko to the Kiryuin manor at nine in the morning to meet up with Mako and Ira, who ride in on one of the Gamagori family’s trucks usually used for shipments in and out of the ironworks. He had immediately offered it up when he heard Satsuki was going to rent one out from a moving company – insisting that it was absolutely unnecessary to do so.

The truck is practically full once they’ve managed to fit in all the furniture, so they pile in as many boxes as they can before loading the rest into Satsuki’s car. It ends up filling even the passenger’s seat, so Ryuko rides back to the house with Mako and Gamagori in the truck. Gamagori thanks her privately for it later, because as it turns out, Mako can be rather distracting when he’s behind the wheel and there’s no one else to keep her occupied.

Ryuko’s hardly done unbuckling her seatbelt, and Gamagori hasn’t even turned the ignition off, before Mako’s out the door and running across the lawn to the front porch. Satsuki is already there, digging around in her jeans’ pocket for the key to the door. Once she finds it, she unlocks the place and leaves it wide open for Mako to enter before her.

“Oooh! This place is super nice, Satsuki-sama!” she says excitedly as she runs through the rooms on the first floor. “I can already see all the fancy furniture and stuff you’ll have in here!”

“I’m glad you like it, Mankanshoku.” Her tone is warm – Mako’s antics have surprisingly become endearing rather than annoying as she had first anticipated them to be. “And I’ve told you before, ‘Satsuki’ is just fine. I’m no longer in that sort of position.”

“But Satsuki-sama is still as radiant as ever!” she proclaims, splaying her hands outwards in an effort recreate beams of light shinning behind her. “You’ll never stop being the beautiful and strong Satsuki-sama to me!” Satsuki flushes at the unexpected flattery.

“Oi, Mako,” Ryuko drawls out as she approaches them, stopping to rest her hand against her best friend’s shoulder. “You wanna shoot her ego through the roof with your flirting? ‘Sides, don’t you have a boyfriend now?”

“M-Mankanshoku and I are not dating!” A blushing Gamagori has suddenly popped his head through the front door to correct Ryuko.

“It’s true, we aren’t even official! …and I was only telling the truth,” Mako chimes in.

“Pfft – yea, whatever you say.” Ryuko rolls her eyes. “How many times have you guys gone on movie dates now? Or gone to the beach just the two of you this summer?”

“All right, enough,” Satsuki interjects before the conversation can escalate. “We have lots of furniture to move in, and I’d rather get it over with while it’s not too hot out yet.” Satsuki may no longer use her title as she did at Honnouji Academy – but Mako is right in that her powerful presence is still easily projected when she wants it to be, because the three of them run off to work immediately when they hear the sternness in her voice.

* * *

 

Gamagori ends up moving all of the larger pieces of furniture by himself, with occasional help from Satsuki when he needs it. They’ve had to disassemble the bed frames for the move, and carrying them and larger bookshelves up the stairs turns out to be a four-man job. Ryuko and Mako are then put in charge of putting the beds back together once they’ve set them in the correct rooms, while the other two continue moving the rest of the boxes into the house. It makes more sense that way – Satsuki’s the only one who really knows where everything should go, and Ryuko’s boxes are few enough that they can just set them in her room.

“You and Satsuki-sama are gonna have so much fun here,” Mako tells Ryuko, who’s holding a piece of the headboard in place for her as she drives one of the screws into it. “It’ll be like a slumber party, only every day of the year!” 

“I’m not sure it’ll be quite like that,” she laughs.

“Sure it will! I’m jealous, the two of you will get to spend so much time together.”

“Well, I’ll be starting up some courses soon, and Satsuki’s got stuff to do with the company as usual,” Ryuko says. “I’ll miss you guys… No one can beat the high energy at the Mankanshokus.”

“You better visit whenever you can!” Mako is gesticulating with the screwdriver in her hand, trying to look stern.

“I promise, I promise,” she assures her. “I’ll even bring Satsuki with me when she’s not too busy.” Mako nods her approval emphatically.

“I think this is the right decision…” Mako says after a while. “Living together – you won’t get too lonely, and the two of you will really get to catch up and stuff.” Ryuko nods, and is about to reply before a voice cuts her off. 

“How’s it going in there?” It’s Satsuki, who’s standing by the stairs down the hallway.

“Good, we just gotta lay down the slats after this and then we’re done,” Ryuko calls back to her.

“Great, Gamagori and I have pretty much finished setting everything where it needs to be,” she says, drawing closer to the entrance of the room. “He needs to drive the truck back soon, though.” 

“Ah – that means I’ll have to leave too,” Mako realizes. 

“There’s no rush,” Satsuki tell her softly. “You’ll have plenty of time with the way you guys are progressing.” Ryuko mumbles something under her breath that neither of them exactly catch.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” she says before turning on her heal and heading back downstairs. Once she’s gone, Mako nudges Ryuko in the side with her elbow.

“What were you mumbling about?” she asks.

“Nothing, nothing,” Ryuko sighs. “Since when do you and Satsuki get along so well?”

“It’s always been like this!” Mako says like it’s the most obvious thing. “Isn’t it a good thing I get along with my best friend’s sister?”

“Yea, I know,” Ryuko says. Maybe she’s overthinking things. She’s not one to get jealous, but the way Satsuki seems so… gentle around Mako has her wishing for the same sort of attention.

* * *

 

After the furniture’s been assembled upstairs, Ryuko and Mako come down to find Satsuki already organizing some things in the kitchen while Gamagori is pulling books from boxes and placing them neatly onto the bookcases in the living room. He and Mako then prepare to leave again. Only after squeezing the two sisters in a tight hug does she hop into the front of the truck. Gamagori takes his place next to her, and they offer their congratulations on the new place one last time before pulling out of the driveway and disappearing down the road. 

“Man, that move-in went by pretty fast,” Ryuko says, stretching where she stands on the front porch. “You and Gamagori are too damn efficient.”

“Don’t relax just yet.” At that Ryuko spins around to face Satsuki, a frown forming on her face. “Don’t worry, it’s not much – just a couple more things to take care of.”

“Like what?”

“Well, there’s some outdoor furniture that I want to assemble in the backyard – it shouldn’t take long,” she says, eyes aimed upwards and arms crossed over her chest as she runs through a mental checklist of things left to do. “And there are some boxes that I don’t think I’ll need to unpack for a while. I was planning on bringing them up to the attic for storage. If you take care of that while I’m outside, we should be all set.”

“The attic, huh?” Ryuko seems suddenly interested, her sense of adventure sparking up. 

“Up for it?” Satsuki asks.

“Hell yea! I’ll bet the previous owners left some stuff up there to dig through,” Ryuko says. “I hope there aren’t too many spiders though…” 

“If there are, you can always call me over and I’ll crush them.” Satsuki places her hands against her hips, and stares seriously at Ryuko as she gives her reassurance. The older sister in her seems eager to spring up at every occasion that presents itself.

“Alright, Nee-san.” Ryuko means for it to be somewhere between teasing and serious, but either way it immediately has Satsuki’s eyes lighting up. 

She directs Ryuko back into the house and to the second floor, where a pile of boxes is stacked neatly at the furthest end of the hallway. Just above it is a door on the ceiling leading into the attic, which unfolds a ladder when opened. Ryuko assures her that she’s got it under control, and so Satsuki leaves her as she heads to the backyard to do her part of the last leg of work.

Ryuko is curious as to what could be in all these boxes that Satsuki has deemed worthy of storage. She picks up a few, testing their weight, trying to gauge the sorts of items they might contain. A couple of them are heavy enough that she wonders if she’ll be able to bring them up the ladder without issue.  

She climbs up quickly to examine the space she has to deal with – and is surprised to find that it’s absolutely huge. With some additional renovations, she doesn’t doubt that they could convert it into something livable.

“This would be the sickest room,” she says aloud to herself. There are even a couple of windows to let in sunlight, so it wouldn’t be too dreary during the daytime.

Before she can get lost exploring and fantasizing, Ryuko decides it’s a good idea to get her work out of the way, lest Satsuki find her slacking off. By the time she’s finished moving all of the boxes in, she’s in a sweat. She thinks she’s started to breath in too much dust from the old attic floorboards with the exertion, because an itch has started up at the back of her throat. The windows at the end of the room seem like a good solution. She makes her way over to them, and after some effort, pries one of them open. Sticking her head out the frame leads her to the conclusion that she’s facing the backyard. She breathes in as much fresh air as she can. From her vantage point, she can see Satsuki a ways bellow working on piecing together some chairs for a table set.

It’s perhaps not the best idea she’s ever had, but it lights up her sense of adventure – so Ryuko listens to her impulse and climbs out the window to step onto the roof. It’s slightly slanted, but not so much that she can’t keep her footing with relative ease.

“Oi, Satsuki!” she calls out, waving her arms up above her head. Her sister turns towards her, following the sound of her name. She looks completely unimpressed. 

“Be careful,” she says. “I don’t want to spend the evening at the hospital after all the work we’ve done today.” Ryuko rolls her eyes dramatically, and hopes Satsuki sees it.

“Don’t worry, I’m sturdy,” she assures her. She doesn’t get an answer, because Satsuki’s focused again on what she was doing before she was interrupted.

“You know, the attic is huge,” she calls down again after a bit. “We could renovate it easily, I think.”

“Is that right?”

“Yea, I think it’d make a pretty cool bedroom – or even a reading room or a just a place to chill or whatever.”

“Where would we put our storage, then?” Satsuki asks.

“I was just throwing the idea out there,” Ryuko replies quickly. She then continues walking along to the edge of the roof, following along the gutter as she goes. It’s badly clogged up in some places, and generally looks like it needs some maintenance.

“Hey, have you seen the gutters?” She’s close enough to where Satsuki’s working now that she doesn’t need to raise her voice much. Her sister turns to look up at her again.

“No, why?”

“They’re pretty clogged up, it looks like,” she tells her. “I’ll go back in and get something to clear them up with.”

She turns around quickly to make her way back towards the open attic window, and about halfway there, she feels her foot slide out from beneath her against the tiling. From what it feels like, one of the shingles has gone loose. She’s moving forward too quickly to properly regain her balance. Her knees slam down again the roofing. Her weight drags her down its slope.

She claws and grabs at the surface on her way down – tries to find purchase on anything she can. But it all slips between her fingers, and she realizes she won’t be able to stop herself from tumbling straight off the roof at this rate. 

“Ryuko!” There’s panic in Satsuki’s voice. It’s all she can focus on as she feels herself falling straight through the air. She’s in a horrible position – lined up to land flat on her back, and will probably hit the back of her skull in the process.

Before she even has time to fold her hands behind head to protect herself, she feels her entire body collide against something that’s certainly not the ground. Ryuko instinctively holds out her arms at her sides to soften the fall, and a scorching pain drags against her hands and forearms as they scape cement.

A pair of arms has encircled her just above the waist, and the back of her head is resting safely against something soft. She realizes that it’s Satsuki’s shoulder, and that she’s being cradled against her body. Ryuko tries to stand, but when she shifts her weight onto her wrists, a pain jolts up her arm. She settles for sitting up instead.

“Are you planning on making a habit of falling from the sky?” Satsuki deadpans. She starts scooting back, and then lifts herself onto her feet. She circles around in front of Ryuko, and offers her a hand. Ryuko takes it, and almost immediately regrets the action because the scrapes on her skin sting at the touch.

“Shit, that hurts,” she hisses as she’s pulled onto her feet. She can’t keep the pain entirely from coloring her voice. Satsuki immediately grabs her arms and turns them over to examine the damage. 

“Can you move everything ok?”

“Y-yea, I think so,” Ryuko tells her. “But my wrists hurt like hell when I do.”

“Come on, we’re going inside.” She can tell by Satsuki’s tone that it’s not an order she can protest against, so she obediently follows her in, all the way to the bathroom upstairs.

Satsuki digs through a bag of yet unpacked toiletries until she finds what she needs to clean out the scrapes. She sets some cotton, disinfectant, and elastic wrap against the sink as she directs Ryuko to wash off as much dirt as she can under running water.

“Sit,” she says once Ryuko’s done rinsing off, gesturing at the lidded toilet. Ryuko takes her place over it, and Satsuki sits against the bathtub’s ledge right beside her. Firmly but gently, she grabs Ryuko’s legs and pulls them towards her, spinning her entire body so that they’re directly facing each other.

“Honestly, you need to be more careful,” she tells her. She’s trying to be stern, but Ryuko can clearly hear the concern in her voice.

“It’s not even that bad.” 

“It could have been a lot worse, especially if I hadn’t been there.”

“I would have managed with the life fibers in my body,” she assures her, continuing to brush it off. Satsuki only frowns, looking down at the raw and bloodied skin over her palms and inner forearms. 

“This is going to sting a little,” she warns as she pours a generous amount of disinfectant over a cotton swab. Ryuko says nothing in response – only watches as Satsuki carefully peels back her fingers form the center of her hand.

She’s right about it stinging. A hiss escapes Ryuko, but Satsuki keeps on going, undeterred. She works quickly and efficiently, dabbing over the sore areas on her hand, but always remaining gentle. Satsuki seems completely immersed in the task, and Ryuko is mesmerized by her sister’s focus as she starts to get over the initial pain.

When Satsuki’s worked her way up to the farthest cuts along her arms, she then glides her fingers back down to examine all she’s done. After making sure she’s satisfied with her level of thoroughness, she moves on to the other arm. Ryuko feels herself flushing as Satsuki once again unfurls her fingers away from her palms, holding them between hers. Satsuki’s hands are elegant – longer and prettier than hers. When the pads of her fingers brush against her skin, it sends shivers down her spine – and she flushes redder at the thought of Satsuki running her fingers and trailing her nails on places other than her arms.

Suddenly too aware of the contact between them, Ryuko fidgets lightly in her seat, but the action only causes their legs to bump up against each other. The universe is decidedly not on her side at the moment. Satsuki pauses to meet her eyes. 

“Are you feeling alright?” she asks. Ryuko thinks this must be karma – she had wished for Satsuki to be tender towards her as she had been towards Mako earlier today, but this attention almost seems too much for her to handle right now.

“I’m fine,” she says quickly. “It just hurts a bit.” Satsuki raises her hand up to feel her forehead.

“Does your head hurt? Are you nauseous at all?” she asks her. From what she could remember, Ryuko hadn’t hit her head during the fall, but she wanted to be sure that she didn't have a concussion. 

“No, not at all.”

It’s reassurance enough for the moment, so she continues her ministrations. Once she’s done, she then starts to wrap the bandages around Ryuko’s wrists, which have started to bruise a bit from the impact of her fall.

“If you weren’t part life fiber, I’m sure these would be broken,” she thinks aloud. When she’s done wrapping, she then looks up at her sister again. “Please promise me you’ll be more careful.”

“Alright, Nee-san,” Ryuko answers, finally giving her an answer she wants to hear. She can feel her face is still hot, but when she glances up to meet Satsuki’s eyes – she swears she’s not the only who’s cheeks have flushed. She looks away again, and a moment of silence passes, wherein Ryuko tries to curl and uncurl her fingers around the new wrappings.

“You should make sure to check your knees too, at some point,” Satsuki eventually says. “I think you scraped them on the way down.” Ryuko nods, and looks suddenly a bit beaten down, tired. 

“Hey, all in all – we did a good job with this move, don’t you think?” Satsuki asks, trying to get her to think about something else now.

“Yea,” Ryuko sighs. “Aside from this, it went pretty smoothly.” She offers up a lopsided smile, canines sticking out. She’s cute – Satsuki feels herself grow warm when she catches herself thinking it. Then, a knowing smile suddenly creeps over her face as she remembers something.

“I’m sorry if I did anything to upset you,” she tells Ryuko. “With Mankanshoku, I mean.” Satsuki is someone who’s always liked to test limits.

“What do you mean?” Ryuko pushes, tentative.

“Oh, I don’t know… You just seemed a little distraught over our interactions.”

“Did I?” She figures feigning ignorance is probably better than owning up to anything. Satsuki quirks an eyebrow, and suddenly leans forward, minimizing the already narrow space between them. Ryuko feels her heart hammer violently against her chest at the proximity. 

But then, the adrenaline drops back down as she realizes Satsuki is only leaning to stand up from her seat on the bathtub. She tries to will herself not to let her face flare up in embarrassment. She’s suddenly a bit peeved.

“It’s no big deal,” Satsuki tells her as she quickly cleans up the medical supplies. She then puts them all away in the cabinet under the sink. “Mankanshoku is your best friend, it’s only natural you’d feel protective over her like that.”

Ryuko is relieved the conversation is being steered into safe territory, but for some reason, she also feels mildly irritated.

“I’m sorry it came off that way,” she apologizes. “It was stupid of me, really.” Satsuki hums in response, and then turns to head for the door.

“I still have to finish the stuff I left outside,” she tells her. “You shouldn’t use your hands right now, but you’re more than welcome to watch me work.” Ryuko stands up and stretches, almost as though she’s pretending to consider the offer.

“You saying you’d like my company?” she asks, a smile back on her face. Satsuki manages not to roll her eyes.

“If you’d do me the honor.” Her voice is playfully mocking, and Ryuko scoffs in response – but follows her out into the backyard nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Satsuki onee-san mode activated! 一二三ᕕ(✿•̀︿•́)ᕗ  
> Hope the slow burn isn't too slow... Next chapter is probably gonna be more angsty we'll see


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna hopefully start driving this towards something a bit more plot-oriented. Satsuki has some baggage that needs sorting.

A few days after the move in, Satsuki goes back to her full-time work schedule at Revocs, so Ryuko spends a fair amount of her time visiting Mako in the week she has left before her classes begin. She’d enrolled in some courses on education and childcare at a local university, which will qualify her to work with kids once she’s completed them.

She has never been particularly interested in school, but her grades from Rinne have turned out to be more than halfway decent and she intends on keeping that trend up. Her first two months of classes go by smoothly, and although she doesn’t make very many friends –people tend to find her a bit gruff and unapproachable – she’s able to stay on top of her studies. Satsuki helps her review occasionally, but she’s become so occupied with the company that time to do so hardly ever makes its way into her agenda.

Her workdays are long. She often returns home to Ryuko around eight or nine o’clock, sometimes later. But regardless of their schedules, they try to make time for each other, and Ryuko is happy that their interactions have remained positive so far. They’re good at living together – conscientious of how much space to give each other when one of them needs it, and when arguments break out they generally manage to settle them civilly. Staying upset over the trivial seems ridiculous to both of them given the lengths they’ve had to go through just to be together again.

On top of that, the house has successfully remained accident-free since Ryuko’s tumble off the roof during the move-in – discounting the time she came close to burning the kitchen down. At least two fire alarms had gone off and it took them a while to completely clear the smoke out. From that day onward, Satsuki has set strict rules against using the oven after drinking any more than a bottle of beer.

Ryuko hadn’t complained much. She tends to concede when they argue over something unimportant, especially when Satsuki is stressed or tired, which seems to be more often than not lately. Ryuko, on the other hand, having recently written her midterms, has no lack of spare time now. When she comes home that evening, she makes dinner for herself and then beelines it for the couch once she’s done eating. She sprawls herself across it, feet on the armrest, before playing a good few of hours worth of video games uninterrupted.

The sound of the front door being shut rather forcefully startles her up into a sitting position. She hadn’t even heard Satsuki unlocking the door, and yet there she stands at the entryway to the living room, holding a couple folders and her laptop under her arm.

“Shit, you scared me,” Ryuko says in way of greeting. A quick glance at the clock on the wall tells her it’s nearly nine. “How was work?”

She doesn’t need to ask, really, because her sister looks just as exhausted as the past several nights she’s come in late from headquarters.

“Long,” she sighs, walking closer to Ryuko. She drops everything in her hands onto the coffee table before reaching to undo the topmost button of her shirt. “Lots of meetings to go through with company representatives back from overseas.”

“Well, I made food so there’s one thing you don’t have to worry about tonight,” Ryuko says. “Leftovers in the fridge, help yourself.”

“I’m alright, thanks.”

“Seriously, you should eat something. You must be starving,” Ryuko pushes.

“I said I’m fine,” she snaps back, raising her voice unintentionally.

“Geez, alright, sorry for caring. You don’t have to get angry.”

“I’m not angry, I just–” She stops a second, brings her hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose, and lets out a deep sigh. She feels too drained to talk right now. “I need to make myself some tea."

Ryuko wants to say something more, feels bad now for riling her up, but Satsuki’s already marched over towards the kitchen. From where she sits on the couch, she can see her filling up the kettle. Her shoulders and head are slumped, as though she might fall asleep over the counter any second. Ryuko turns off her game, throws the remote down on the couch and heads for the kitchen herself. 

She enters just in time to see Satsuki reaching for one of the teacups in the cupboard, only for it to slip between her hands and come crashing onto the side of the sink with the unmistakable sound of shattering porcelain. Ryuko swears she hears her sister mutter a swear beneath her breath and it makes her go still. Satsuki then becomes motionless too, simply staring into the sink where the jagged shards lay. This is the most wound up Ryuko’s ever seen her. Satsuki gives no indication of noticing her as she approaches from the doorway.

“Satsuki,” the concern is plain in her voice, and she lays a hand over her shoulder as she comes up to stand beside her. She instantly knows she’s made a mistake, because every muscle in Satsuki’s body tenses up. She startles away and Ryuko drops her hand immediately.

“Don’t touch me,” she says. It’s meant to sound firm, but there’s an edge in her voice that makes her sound vulnerable, taken off-guard.

Ryuko takes a step back for good measure.

“…Sorry.” It comes out a mumble. She doesn’t know whether to feel hurt at the reaction, or guilty over evoking it in the first place. Either way, her concern’s mounted and she’s frustrated at the knowledge that her help isn’t wanted at the moment. Satsuki is still turned away from her.

“I’ll be in my room… if you need anything,” she tells her before retreating from the kitchen. She walks back through the living room, picks up her phone from where she left it on the couch, puts away the remote she left there too, and then takes the stairs two at a time to shut herself in her room.

She lays awake in bed a good while, distracting herself on her phone, keeping an ear out for anything Satsuki might be doing. The stress had been bad since she started work again, but this is the first night Ryuko’s seen her so jumpy and distraught. She wonders how long it’s all been bubbling beneath the surface. It keeps her from dozing off, so she stays awake in case Satsuki might actually need anything from her.

Eventually, she hears her sister make her way up the stairs, and then the whoosh of the shower running comes on about a half hour later. Only once the water’s been turned off, and the hallway light’s stopped creeping in from the seam at the foot of her door, can Ryuko manage to fall asleep.

* * *

 Satsuki wakes up at one in the morning in a cold sweat. Her heart is beating madly and the sound carries up to her ears, drowns out everything around her. Her surroundings feel distant. She fists her hands into the sheets, willing herself to stop shaking. There’s an aching pressure in her chest and she feels like she can’t breath, like she’ll suffocate, like there’s not enough air in the room to keep her alive.

When she’s calmed down, she feels so uncomfortable in her now-sweaty shirt that she stands up to change into a new one. Her legs still feel like they’re trembling, and suddenly tears are falling down over her cheeks as she stands aimlessly by her closet. She hates crying, hates this feeling like she’s about to break. It must have been another dream. She’s glad she doesn’t remember it in detail this time.

Despite her fatigue, she can’t convince herself to lie back down just yet, so she leaves her room and heads downstairs to make some tea. Then, she curls up on one of the armchairs in the living room with a book, and sips quietly from her cup.

The creaking of the stairs alerts her to Ryuko’s presence a short time later, and she looks up from her page to see her standing at the doorway in her pajamas. She’s rubbing at her eyes sleepily, squinting at the lights she had not expected to find turned on. 

“Hey… what’re you doing up?” She sounds drowsy, voice deeper than it normally is.

“I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep,” Satsuki tells her. “… Just reading now in the hopes that it’ll tire me out again.” She needs it as a distraction from her own thoughts.

Ryuko walks closer now that she’s adjusted her eyes to the light. A hand creeps up under the hem of her shirt, where she scratches at her belly as she yawns. 

“What did you come down for? I didn’t wake you, did I?” Satsuki asks.

“Nah, I’m just hungry is all.”

“I can make you something,” she says as Ryuko keeps walking towards the kitchen.

“Nah, it’s ‘kay,” she mumbles with a dismissive wave of her hand as she walks into the next room. Satsuki marks the page in her book and leaves it on the armrest as she stands up to follow after her sister. 

“Please, let me cook something for you,” she repeats. Ryuko catches her eye, must see something there because she agrees with a sigh and a sleepy nod of her head. She then takes a seat at one of the stools they keep tucked away underneath the counter.

She watches as Satsuki takes out ingredients to make an omelet. The task has her thoroughly occupied, which is what she was looking for in the first place. With her hands busy she can focus simply on the motions required to cook, and little else. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ryuko asks. The hand Satsuki’s using to beat the eggs falters momentarily at the question.

“Talk about what?”

“You know, whatever’s on your mind. You just… seem kinda distraught lately.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it, no,” comes Satsuki’s answer. She’s working over the pan now, with her back to Ryuko. “I work long hours, I get stressed, I don’t sleep well, I have nightmares… it’s a cycle that perpetually feeds itself.”

“You can always talk to me if you want to,” Ryuko says after a beat of silence. “About anything really.”

Satsuki lets out a breath and then turns to finally meet Ryuko’s gaze. It’s ridden with concern and she suddenly feels guilty for pushing her sister away these past weeks when she’s only been trying to offer her support.

“I know, I’m sorry if I scared you off earlier,” she says. “I don’t mean to act the way I do, I’ve just… not felt my greatest lately.”

“You don’t need to apologize for feeling shitty,” Ryuko tells her. “Just… trust me to help if you think you need it.”

“I do. I trust you, Ryuko.”

“Good.” She offers her a small smile. “That’s all I need to hear.”

Satsuki then finishes preparing the food, and sets it over a large plate, which she brings over to her sister along with a fork. She hands her a bottle of hot sauce too, and Ryuko wastes no time pouring a copious amount over top of the omelet. Satsuki pulls out the stool next to hers and takes a seat, watching silently as she digs into her meal.

“This is so good,” she says between mouthfuls. Her eyes have crinkled up happily as she chews. “Thanks, Sats.” 

“Give me a piece?” she asks. There’s already a big chunk on the end of the fork, and Ryuko stops its trajectory toward her own mouth to direct it to Satsuki’s instead. The motion is tentative on Ryuko’s end, but Satsuki decisively leans in and takes the fork between her lips. By the time she’s released it, Ryuko looks in a daze.

“God, Ryuko. The amount of hot sauce you use is absolutely ludicrous,” she tells her as she swallows it down. Before she can say anything else, Ryuko’s already brought the fork back to her face with a fresh piece on the end.

“Here,” she says. “This one doesn’t have too much sauce.” Her hand hangs there in the air, her eyes expectant as Satsuki looks down at the fork.

“Thanks.” She scoots forward and lets Ryuko feed her again, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear in the process. She can actually taste egg this time.

Ryuko retracts her hand once Satsuki lets go, and looks down at the streaks of sauce left behind on the metal prongs. She then raises the fork to her own mouth, licking over where Satsuki had been a second before, in a motion that seems intentionally absent-minded. When she makes eye contact with Satsuki, she’s met with a quirk of one of her eyebrows.

“Eat the rest before it gets cold,” she chastises her.

“I’m working on it, geez,” Ryuko grumbles, but proceeds to wolf down the rest of her food anyway. She then takes care of the dishes while Satsuki goes back to the living room to sit on the couch.

She holds the book in her lap again, feeling drowsier than when Ryuko first came downstairs, and finds herself reading the same lines over when her attention wanders halfway through them. But when her head lolls she wills herself awake, scared of slipping back into nightmares again.

“You’re falling asleep. You wanna go upstairs?” Ryuko is suddenly standing in front of her, hands resting against her hips.

“Huh? No, I’m fine,” Satsuki says. “I’ll just read a bit more.” She doesn’t look up to meet Ryuko’s eyes. She’s sure she’s being shot a scathing look of disapproval. 

“Do you mind if I stay with you, then?” The request takes her off guard. She drops her book slightly and lifts her head.

“You’re not going to go back to sleep?”

“I won’t be able to if I go straight to my room right now,” she explains. Satsuki isn’t sure how much she sings the truth, but either way she doesn’t mind the company at the moment. 

“Yea, of course you can stay,” she says.

Ryuko grabs a blanket from one of the other chairs and brings it over with her to the seat beside Satsuki on the couch. She offers one end of it to her, which she takes and drapes loosely over her legs. Ryuko, with the other end clenched between her fists, turns to lie down with her head in the opposite direction. 

Satsuki gets through about a page before turning to her sister, who hasn’t stopped fidgeting. The movements have forced the blanket almost entirely off of her. 

“Are you quite done?” she asks.

“It’s not my fault I can’t get comfy with so little blanket,” Ryuko complains. 

“You offered to share it,” she points out. She doesn’t need to look over to know her sister is pouting. Satsuki lets out a sigh.

“You can come here, if you want,” she tells her. Ryuko lifts her head to see her indicating the space over her lap with her free hand.

Rather than give an answer, she shifts and scoots towards Satsuki, who lifts her arms up to make room for her to get in closer. She drops her head over her thighs, and Satsuki waits until she’s positioned herself comfortably before draping the blanket over both of them again.

She then goes back to reading, and slowly feels Ryuko’s body relaxing as she gets used to the arrangement. Satsuki is holding her book in her right hand over the armrest, and her left hand is resting right by Ryuko on her lap. A few strands of her unruly hair brush up against her skin. 

“Can I touch your hair?” Satsuki asks after a minute of thought. It looks soft and fluffy and she wonders if it’ll feel that way too. She feels Ryuko stiffens at first when she asks the question.

“Yea, knock yourself out,” she says. Permission granted, Satsuki turns her attention back to her book, and lets her fingers brush gently through her sister’s hair. It’s thinner and lighter than her own, about as soft as she had imagined.

Ryuko doesn’t stay stiff for long. The more Satsuki runs her fingers against her scalp, the more she seems to melt into the couch again. She even turns her head into her lap a bit to give her more access, and her breathing quickly becomes deeper. Satsuki combs her hair up and away from the back of her neck, and continues stroking absentmindedly as she reads her book. Having Ryuko beside her helps somehow. She finds it easier to lose herself in the pages without intrusive thoughts interrupting her – so much so that she almost forgets her sister is sitting right over her legs as the next several minutes go by. 

A soft sound at the back of Ryuko’s throat quickly reminds her of the hand still tangled in her hair. Lost as she had been in her reading, she hadn’t realized that she was now running her nails against her scalp. She takes the sound to be positive and repeats the motion from a second before – curiously running her fingers against the side of her head and towards the space behind her ear. And then a third time, when it succeeds in drawing another sound from Ryuko. 

Satsuki suddenly feels warm as she hears her vocalizations. She curls her fingers slowly into a fist, pulling at her hair, making sure to stay close to the roots so the pressure will feel good rather than painful. Ryuko’s legs twitch at that. Her body shifts as she buries her face further into Satsuki’s lap, and a breathy noise dies in her throat before it can escape her.

A hand against Satsuki’s pulls her immediately from her fixation, and her thoughts fall into focus again as her fingers are drawn away. 

“I-I can’t fall asleep if you’re doing that,” Ryuko drawls out. Her mouth is pressed against the fabric of her sister’s pants, so her voice comes out muffled. Satsuki retracts her arm and lets it fall onto the couch.

“Ah – I’m sorry,” she says. She still feels warm, and suddenly doesn’t know what to do with her hands. She settles simply on holding her book again. “My intention wasn’t to rile you up.”

“It’s okay,” Ryuko says, turning into a more comfortable sleeping position. She keeps her head turned from Satsuki. “… it felt nice, thanks.”

Satsuki doesn’t have an answer prepared for that, so she only hums lightly in response.

“You can sleep now,” she says after a beat of silence. “I won’t bother you, I promise.” 

“Yea, I’m already on it,” Ryuko yawns as her body relaxes again.

It isn’t long before her breathing slows into the gentle rhythm of sleep. It moves her body up and down, keeps Satsuki warm as she goes on reading. Her focus doesn’t last much longer however, and she jerks up when her head lolls off to the side a few times. She remembers neither putting her book down, nor falling asleep, when she wakes up to Ryuko snoring softly in her lap in the morning. She doesn't feel well-rested in the least, but is glad that she managed to escape the nightmares long enough not to have them wake her as they usually do. 


	5. Chapter 5

To her credit, Satsuki is very good at hiding things. But everyone cracks under pressure eventually. Ever since the night they both ended up sleeping on the couch, Ryuko has been on high alert for signs that something might be wrong. They’re hard to catch, but a few occasions in particular give Satsuki away.

There’s the night that Ryuko comes back home to her sister already working in the office. She knocks tentatively before entering, and everything looks almost perfect, not a hair out of place – until she notices the glass of brandy. It’s sitting on a coaster by a stack of papers over the desk.

Satsuki catches her eyes flickering to it, says nothing and waits instead for her to speak.

“Hey, how long have you been home?” she asks to dispel the tension that’s settled between them.

“A few hours,” Satsuki answers. “I couldn’t focus at the office. Thought I might have better luck here.”

 _Yea, because you can’t drown out you stress with alcohol at work, can you?_ Ryuko wants to say it, but she bites her tongue. It’s not the first time she’s caught her drinking. Not that drinking itself is an issue – but she’d never known Satsuki to have an inclination for it until a couple weeks ago. 

And when she drinks, she drinks herself drunk to the point that she can lie down and fall instantly asleep. She hides her inebriety well, too. Usually its only indicator – aside from a glass in her hand – is a warm glow that’s fallen over her cheeks. And her speech becomes a bit less eloquent, more clipped.

Ryuko quickly retreats from the office after that, feeling herself growing frustrated and not wanting to bring anything to escalation. She lingers in the living room, with her notes splayed out around her on the couch and her feet kicked up over the coffee table. She takes a break to eat – alone, because that’s how it’s been lately. So when she hears Satsuki walk in when she sits down again with her food, she perks up at the thought that maybe they’ll get to share a meal together for the first time in a while.

The look on Satsuki’s face tells her otherwise. She’s completely withdrawn, absorbed in her own thoughts. Ryuko wonders whether she even registers the fact that someone else is in the room. Either that or she’s deliberately ignoring her. Her step is just the slightest bit off balance. In anyone else, Ryuko would think nothing of it.

“Oi, where’re you going?” she asks her as she moves past the couch at towards the kitchen. “Come here a minute and sit down.”

“I don’t want to,” Satsuki says simply, and Ryuko is impressed that her words come out crystal clear despite the alcohol in her system. She rises from her seat when Satsuki’s disappeared for a few instants and follows her into the kitchen.

She finds her at the counter, in the process of uncapping the bottle of brandy that’s only now a quarter full. She’s halted when Ryuko’s hand comes down over her own. Her grip isn’t hard, but firm enough to get the seriousness of her intentions across.

“I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” she tells her, letting anger bleed through her words.

“I think I can be the judge.”

“No, clearly you can’t,” she says, pulling the bottle away from her brusquely. She thinks Satsuki will retaliate, that things are going to blow up. She expects a fight. And for an instant, she wants it to come to that – wants the excuse of an argument to justify delivering a piece of her mind.

Instead, Satsuki looks defeated. There’s something like desperation in her eyes, and it strikes a combination of fear and nausea in Ryuko.

“Fuck, you want it that badly?” she says.

“You don’t understand.” Satsuki doesn’t elaborate beyond that. Her eyes are a bit glossed over but there’s something fierce in the way they fixate on her sister. She looks like she might say something more, but instead her arm starts shaking the slightest bit.

The sound of glass smashing to pieces makes Ryuko jump a foot back. Shards are lying all over the counter, as well as between Satsuki’s still trembling fingers. She’s never seen someone shatter a glass in their bare hand before.

“Hell, be careful!” she can’t help the startled exclamation. Satsuki doesn’t seem to register it. She looks far off, like her mind is stuck in something that she can’t wade her way out of. There are small droplets of blood pooling up over her palm.

“Shit, let me see you hand,” Ryuko says, taking a hold of it with perhaps a bit more roughness than is required. She doesn’t care. She’s pissed right now. “You’re a damn idiot, you know that?”

When she starts carefully removing the few bits of glass stuck into her palm, the prickling pain wakes Satsuki into alertness again. She withdraws her hand from Ryuko, slowly at first, and then harder when she doesn’t immediately let go.

“I’m fine,” she says. Her voice is suddenly level again, and when Ryuko looks up at her, she can tell she’s steeling herself. But her face looks worn, and her eyes lack focus, and her breathing is a bit deeper and slower than it normally is. “I’ll go rinse it off upstairs. In the bathroom.”

“Alright, I’ll come with,” Ryuko says.

“No, I’d rather do it alone.”

“Fine, then I’ll just stand in the hallway ‘till you’re done. I need to make sure you get to bed alright.”

“I’m not that drunk,” Satsuki insists, growing defensive and impatient.

“Yea, whatever you say, Kiryuin.” With that Ryuko takes her by the hand and leads her towards the doorway. “I’m still coming with you.”

Satsuki doesn’t say anything more as they walk through the house. Arguing right now isn’t worth the effort it’ll take to put her thoughts into words. When they get to the bathroom, she immediately shoves Ryuko out with a firm push of her hand against her chest. The door then shuts close, leaving her standing out in the hallway for a good ten minutes.

From outside, she can hear the water running for a long time – she assumes Satsuki’s holding her palm under the tap to clear out the cuts. Then, she hears her brush her teeth and wash her face before the door clicks open again. Satsuki glances at her an instant, says nothing, and then walks off to her room.

“Good night, Ryuko. Thank you so much for keeping me from fucking myself up to shit,” Ryuko near-whispers, just loud enough that she knows Satsuki will hear it.

“Thanks,” is all she offers in response, her back still turned, right before she shuts the door. Ryuko lets herself slump to the ground and sits there a while, feeling drained and frustrated – generally upset. She knows that this is something bigger than just stress, but she can’t do anything if her sister chooses to stay closed off.

 

By the next time Satsuki lets on that her troubles are graver than she presents them to be, about another week has passed. Since the night she’s broke the glass, she hardly drinks anymore. As much as it offers her relief from unwanted memories, she hates the side effect of loosing control, especially around Ryuko. The more time they spend together, the more she thinks her walls are being torn down – and the thought frightens her a bit, not because she doesn’t trust Ryuko, but because she’s told herself all her life that keeping people out is the only way to survive. The vulnerability bristles feelings that require more effort to process than raising her barriers do.

Either way, Ryuko is thankful for the halt in her newly picked up drinking habit.

But the resolution of one problem seems to bring about another in it’s wake, and this one is much less clear-cut than the last. Ryuko doesn’t quite know what to do during times where Satsuki seems emotionally shut down. On top of her exhaustion, she’s lethargic and sometimes days can pass without a smile.

But on that morning, Satsuki is in an uncharacteristically good mood. It’s a Saturday, and by some miracle she’s managed to sleep in a bit. Ryuko greets her in the kitchen when she bumps into her, still in her bathrobe, as she gets started on making some tea.

“Did you have a good sleep?” Ryuko asks, surprised at her… lightness. Satsuki hums in confirmation before turning to her.

“By some miracle, it would seem I did,” she says. She pauses then, eyes quickly scanning her sister head to toe. Ryuko suddenly feels a bit self-conscious, tries not to get flustered at the deliberate attention.

“Judging by the sleep lines over you arms, and the state of your hair,” Satsuki tells her, “I’m guessing you’re also feeling well-rested.” 

“Y-yea.” Ryuko can’t stop herself from bringing her hand up, trying to gauge how bad her bedhead is. She can hardly believe it, but Satsuki’s eyes seem to smile a bit as she watches her pat down her hair.

She looks beautiful today – not that she doesn’t look it every other day of the year, but something about today in particular makes her absolutely radiant. Maybe it’s just been too long since she’s seemed even remotely happy. Her shoulders are more lax than usual, her expression is soft, her face colored with warmth. Her gaze isn’t stern in the least, and Ryuko finds tenderness there that makes her suddenly aware of her train of thought. She looks away quickly, only for her eyes to fall to her lips, and then to the smooth column of her neck.

“Ryuko?” She can tell by the tone of Satsuki’s voice that it isn’t the first time she’s called her name.

“What?” she says dumbly.

“I asked you if you wanted anything.” Her tone sounds mildly amused. It’s pretty – _god_ is her voice pretty. It’s full of life again and happiness bubbles up in Ryuko’s chest at the sound of it.

“I want to hug you,” she answers plainly. About half a second later, she realizes it probably wasn’t the response Satsuki was fishing for. The surprised look on her face confirms it.

“I meant to drink, Ryuko,” she tells her with a small sigh. “But yes, you can hug me if you’d like.”

She holds her arms slightly open, and Ryuko wastes no time coming forward to wrap her in a gentle embrace. The material of her bathrobe is soft against her skin, and she burrows deeper into her. It’s warm, the feeling that comes with being pressed chest to chest. It’s the first time they’ve ever held each other like this just for the sake of it. Ryuko wants to savor every second. The smell of tea, shampoo, and fresh laundry falls gently over her and she breathes in as much as she can, commits it to memory. Satsuki, on her end, seems unsure of what to do with her arms. One of them finds its way to the back of Ryuko’s head, keeping her still against her neck, while the other rests lightly at her side.

“I-I think that’s good,” Satsuki tells her before long. Ryuko could go on holding her indefinitely, she thinks, but she retracts herself all the same as soon as she hears Satsuki speak.

She flashes her a smile and says, “Thanks.” A pause, then, “And I’ll just get myself some juice, to answer your question.”

When they head over to the living room, Ryuko’s holding a bowl of cereal in one hand and her glass of juice in the other, while satsuki follows behind with a cup of tea held over a saucer. The TV’s already on from when Ryuko first came downstairs earlier. She rushes to take a seat and drops her glass on the coffee table with more force than necessary, all in an effort to shovel the cereal into her mouth at fast as possible before it gets soggy. Satsuki gives her a look, but doesn’t say anything as she sits down on the other end of the couch, drapes a newspaper over her lap, and continues holding the saucer as she sips quietly at her tea.

They don’t watch TV often, and only have basic cable, but Ryuko likes to put on the news in the mornings for background noise. And even though she doesn’t admit it, Satsuki suspects she’s developed something of a crush on the meteorologist. She’s a stern looking woman, tall and elegant, and Ryuko usually shuts the TV right off after she’s seen her report. And she’ll sit through whatever uninteresting drivel the anchors have to run through beforehand.

It’s much of the same stuff this morning. Ryuko munches loudly on her cereal with her feet crossed over the table, only vaguely listening to the voices coming from the television. The story being covered is concerned with a case of child kidnapping – from a non-custodial parent who dragged the kid away in broad daylight in the middle of a parking lot. Sensitive footage. That’s the warning the reporters give before the video plays out. Ryuko only realizes in hindsight that it marks the moment she should have switched to another channel. 

It’s security footage from the parking lot. The woman’s face is clearly identifiable given her position facing the camera – the child, less so. He’s obscured by the shadow of the car stationed beside them, but it’s clear that he’s pulling and tugging against the grip she has over his arm. And then she strikes him. Once, twice, three times until he falls. It’s hard to tell what goes on after, when she leans down towards him, because his body is no longer in the shot. But eventually she hauls him up roughly by the collar of his shirt before shoving him forcefully into the backseat of the car. The footage keeps rolling until the car backs out of its spot, and pauses to zoom over a still frame wherein the license plate is just visible. 

Ryuko doesn’t need to look over to know that Satsuki has gone tense – she can practically feel the nervous energy rolling off her. The newspaper has slid slightly off her lap, and the hand holding her teacup hangs in midair where its trajectory has halted halfway to her lips. Eventually, by the time the reporters have long moved on to a different story, the bottom of the cup finds its saucer with the slight rattle of porcelain against porcelain. Her hands are trembling. Ryuko allows herself a glance in her direction, but doesn’t say anything.

Whether to talk about things or not is Satsuki’s prerogative entirely. Besides, Ryuko doesn’t need to do much thinking to figure out what – or rather who – it is that affects her so. There’s only one person capable of giving rise to such a primal fear response in a woman otherwise equipped with a resolve of steel. That she’s dead doesn’t matter, not if she still lives in the corners of Satsuki’s mind.

Ryuko has learned the hard way that during these times where her sister zones out, no doubt lost in nightmarish memory, touching her is the last thing she should do. It usually ends with Satsuki yelling at her, or flinching away, and generally just makes the situation worse. So instead, Ryuko tries her name.

After a second time with no response, she says more firmly, “Oi, Kiryuin, are you there?”

“I can hear you,” she says just when Ryuko thinks she isn’t going to answer again.

“You alright?”

“I’m fine,” she says quickly, as though nothing has happened. As though she didn’t just space out on the couch looking like she’d seen a ghost the past five minutes. Ryuko gives her a look that tells her she knows she’s lying, but doesn’t push it.

“I think I’ll go for a run,” Satsuki says eventually, rising up from her seat with her tea in hand. “You can join if you’d like.”

Ryuko agrees, because she’s otherwise in a good mood, and because Satsuki only rarely invites her to participate in her workout routine. She almost regrets taking up the offer as soon as they head out. It’s colder than she expected and Satsuki sets a pace that she knows will be painful to keep up. But no matter how the air bites at her lungs, she trails diligently by Satsuki’s side the entire way, and tries to make good conversation the few times they exchange words. Things like these – meeting her sister’s requests for time spent together – is all she feels is safe to do in offering her support without being too pushy.

* * *

One evening late November, Satsuki comes home ready to crash. She’s about to head upstairs and off to bed, without so much as another thought, until something peculiar catches her attention. She’s halfway out the room when she notices. Ryuko is sitting almost perfectly still on the couch – TV off, no books or console in sight.

“What are you doing?” she asks, suspicious.

“What? Nothing.” Her tone is marked by indifference but the look on her face says _guilty._ Satsuki drops the bag slung over her shoulder and stalks over to where her sister sits on the couch. She’s holding one of her hands behind her back, and that alone gives her away.

“What do you want?” Ryuko asks, retreating further into the couch but keeping her body angled towards Satsuki so that she can’t see what’s behind her. Satsuki’s arm comes down suddenly against the back of the couch to trap her from scooting any further away. 

“Hand it over,” she tells her as she leans in closer. There’s something like amusement on her face, and Ryuko can’t figure if it makes her more or less nervous about having been caught.

“Hand what over?” She knows it’s too late to get out of this one, but figures she can still make a game of it. She doesn’t always have much opportunity to engage Satsuki what with her levels of exhaustion lately.

She makes a little huff of disbelief at the back of her throat and says, “Just own up to it. You have a terrible poker face.”

“Do not.” At this point, she’s deliberately instigating.

The couch cushion suddenly dips as Satsuki leans her weight onto it. Her knee is pressed up against Ryuko’s thigh, and within seconds her face flares almost as red as the streak in her hair. And Satsuki keeps leaning in. She leans in until Ryuko can feel her breath across her cheek, can hardly do anything to keep from fixating on her lips. The lack of distance has her pressing into the couch and sputtering to find words.

“See? Terrible poker face,” Satsuki whispers against her ear, and Ryuko thinks she’s about to explode at the shiver that sends warmth pooling at the base of her spine.

When she pulls away all too quickly, Ryuko realizes the half-eaten lemon hidden behind her back is now missing. Satsuki’s holding it between her fingers like she might hold a used tissue, but the expression on her face flaunts her pride at the victory.

“I’ve told you before: not on the couch,” she says sternly. Ryuko bolts up to stand beside her, hoping her cheeks aren’t as warm as they feel.

“It’s fine, I wasn’t even making a mess. Give it here.” She reaches to snatch it back, but the hand holding it shoots up above Satsuki’s head. 

“No, not until you at least get a napkin.” She waits there with her arm raised, but Ryuko doesn’t budge. So she says, “Look at your hand. You always make and absolute mess when you eat these things, and I don’t want it to bleach the couch.”

Ryuko can’t hide the fact that her right hand is half-covered in lemon juice, but instead of doing as Satsuki tell her, she brings her fingers up to her lips to lick at them.

“I don't _need_ a napkin,” she says as she cleans it off. Satsuki’s face scrunches up in what Ryuko assumes must be disgust, but watches silently nonetheless until she’s finished.

“That was disgusting, Ryuko,” she tells her. She then lowers her hand again and offers the lemon back to her sister, but doesn’t let go when she tries to take it back.

“Please use a napkin.” Ryuko sighs and pulls it from her fingers, but marches off to the kitchen anyway. She returns with a piece of paper towel, and plops down cross-legged into her seat on the couch.

Satsuki looks satisfied enough, because she doesn’t say another word as she sits down beside her. Then, she pulls out her phone – she only switched to a smartphone when Ryuko insisted it was a necessity – and scrolls through emails from work, brows furrowed, looking tired again.

“You have a lot of stuff to do still?” Ryuko asks as she watches her.

“No, I was actually going to retire for the night, but…” she trails off for a second. “I just remembered something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you.”

Ryuko sits up straight, shoving the rest of the lemon into her mouth, and scoots over to see what Satsuki might have to show her. She asks curiously, “Work related?”

“No, not really.” Satsuki seems to have found the email she was looking for, because she holds the phone out for Ryuko to see. “It’s the government, actually.”

“What do they want?” She takes the phone and quickly scans the email. It’s a message from a Ms. Ebihara, requesting access to the Kiryuin Manor within the week. Or rather, demanding access, given the way it’s worded.

“Who is this lady? She can do this kinda thing?” Ryuko asks.

“She’s a biochemist, recently turned to life fiber research, apparently. I did some digging and it looks life the field sprung into existence shortly after Honnouji Academy was destroyed, which makes sense.” She pauses, and takes the phone back from Ryuko to tuck it into the back pocket of her pants. “Some of Revocs’ competitors have raised their concerns, apparently, over the potential of a continued circulation of life fibers within the company… And with the manor about to go up for auction soon, I guess it attracted some attention.”

“You’re gonna let them go, then?”

“I don’t have any reason not to. Disallowing it would only raise suspicion, and I’d rather build good connections than perpetuate negative ones… Besides, what do we have to hide? If it’s life fibers they’re looking for, they aren’t going to find any.”

Ryuko hums in thought, and asks, “How can a field stay alive if what they’re studying isn’t even around anymore?”

“That’s a good question; I imagine Iori might have an answer given he’s in the field himself,” Satsuki muses. “Either way, I have to get back to her soon.”

“And where do I come into all this?” Ryuko asks after a silence.

“Well, I wanted to ask if maybe you’d come with me to the manor when I show it to them,” Satsuki says. “I think it makes sense given we’re both inheritors… But I have to admit the request is partially selfish. I think it’ll be easier, being back there again, if I have you with me.”

“Yea, of course I’ll come,” Ryuko assures her immediately. “Whatever you need. Plus this shouldn’t take that long, right?”

“I have no idea. I don’t really know what to expect of the inspection, but they don’t mention it taking up more than a day.”

Ryuko notices that she’s getting lost in thought again. The lines in her face are tense, and she looks like she might blank out like she does when her memories plague her. Ryuko brings her hand forward and tentatively places it over Satsuki’s lying on the couch. When she doesn’t tense or pull away, she leaves it to rest there, hopefully providing some sort of comfort.

“We can power through it,” she tells her. “And if there’s anything you want me to do in particular while we’re there, let me know and I got you.”

“Thank you, Ryuko.” She turns her hand to move it out from underneath Ryuko's, but stops to give it a gentle squeeze before letting go. Then she stands up off the couch, stretching her arms up above her head. She makes a little sound in the process that has Ryuko beating away inappropriate thoughts.

“I do have to go to sleep now, though,” she says, turning to face her sister still sitting on the couch. “I’m exhausted. Sorry if I’m lousy company lately.”

“Yea, the lousiest,” Ryuko teases. “Mako never yelled at me for eating lemons on the couch when I lived with her.” Satsuki rolls her eyes dramatically and turns to retrieve her bag from where she dropped it on the floor earlier. 

“Good night, Ryuko,” she says as she walks out of the room.

“’Night,” she calls back. She knows not to bother Satsuki when she says she needs rest, but lately she’s been disappearing into her room at increasingly early hours. The fact that she wakes up still looking tired as hell lets her know that she probably only sleeps for about half the length of time that she tries to.

About five minutes later, as she’s lying on the couch killing time on her phone, Ryuko receives a notification for a new email. She opens it to find it’s from Satsuki – not to her, but to Ms. Ebihara, and she’s been copied. In it, Satsuki offers to show her the manor on the Friday coming up at the end of the week.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slightly longer update than usual! really enjoyed writing this chapter

For the entire length of the car ride, they have the heat turned up just about as high as possible, and Ryuko blasts music until Satsuki thinks she’ll go deaf by the time they get to the manor. She complains a few times, reaches for the dial to turn it down despite Ryuko’s whining, and pretends not to notice when Ryuko tries to stealthily bring it back up as she raises her hand to the dashboard to skip through channels. She sings along, too – just as loud as the radio. Satsuki won’t admit it, but it’s actually kind of cute. Ryuko catches her trying to fight off a smile a few times, which only prompts her to become more boisterous. At least she’s not tone deaf; otherwise, the trip would have been much less bearable.

Ryuko does ease up a little bit when they start to get close to the manor, and by the time they’ve pulled up into the driveway, the radio is turned off. Satsuki glances at the clock, still gripping the bottom of the steering wheel although they’ve been parked for a little while now. They still have another fifteen minutes or so before Ebihara shows up with her team.

“Should we wait inside for them?” Ryuko asks.

“No, I’d rather only be in there for as long as is necessary,” Satsuki admits. “Plus we’ll be able to see their car pull in from here, anyway.”

They sit in silence as Satsuki distracts herself by gripping her thermos between her hands and sipping at it quietly. When finally an inconspicuous pair of black sedans makes it through the gates and around the furthest bend of the driveway, Ryuko raises her hand to place it against her sister’s shoulder in what she hopes is a reassuring gesture. Satsuki responds by quickly squeezing it with her own before pulling away to open the car door. Ryuko mirrors her, and once she’s standing she brushes at her clothes, suddenly a bit self-conscious. She doesn’t mingle often in strictly business settings.

“Remember, you can leave most of the talking to me,” Satsuki tells her. Ryuko nods. Either way, she doubts she has very much information to provide concerning the manor.

They move to stand closer to the staircase leading up to the front door, and the cars pull up beside Satsuki’s just a second later. The first to step it out is a woman wearing a simple button down beneath a long peacoat. Ryuko had half expected someone wearing a suit, but she looks like she could work a boring desk job for any old company. 

Scratch that. She looks like she could be the CEO for any old company. There’s an air of unwavering authority in the way she makes her way up to where they’re standing, and the fact that a few assistants trail behind her doesn’t hurt her image. Ryuko can tell that even without the heels, she would still stand a couple inches above Satsuki.  

“Ebihara Umeko,” she introduces herself once she’s standing before them. “Good to finally meet in person.” 

“Kiryuin Satsuki.”

When they both look in her direction, Ryuko quickly follows suit and says, “Matoi Ryuko.” 

“I brought some colleagues to help me; I hope that’s alright.” It’s clear at this point that whether Satsuki thinks it’s alright or not is completely irrelevant. “Thanks for taking the time to come out and accommodate us.” 

“It’s no trouble at all,” Satsuki replies. “Follow me, I’ll show you in.” Ryuko fights off a smile when she hears the authority emerging in her sister’s voice, like she’s suddenly grown competitive at the sight of someone else with an equally massive ego.

As they walk through the entryway and then down the long corridor past the vestibule, Ms. Ebihara asks to be taken to the centermost location in the house. Satsuki acknowledges her with little more than a curt response, while Ryuko purposefully falls back a step, making it clear that Satsuki is the one the questions should go to. She can tell by the set of her sister’s shoulders that she’s already gone tense from being in the manor. The place is no doubt swarming with opportunity for bad memories to resurface.

“This is the main stairwell,” Satsuki announces once they’ve reached the main space from which the dinning room, living room, and various corridors branch off. “I believe it’s best suited for any sort of long-rage probing, if that’s what you had in mind.”

“Yes, thank you,” Ebihara answers, delegating an order to the men behind her with a gesture of her hand. They step forward with their briefcases, and set them down against the floor at the base of the stairwell before setting the latches free. Immediately, they set off to work on various instruments that neither Ryuko nor Satsuki recognize.

“These machines can pick up traces of residual life-fiber energy, so long as the source is strong. We’re just doing a cursory scan to start with,” Ms. Ebihara explains as she takes a seat on the steps, and opens up her laptop to start working too.

“Do you have an estimate as to how long everything will take?” Satsuki asks.

“You have my word that you’ll be home in time for dinner.”

Satsuki seems unfazed by the answer, but Ryuko has to stop herself from letting out a groan. It’s hardly past noon now, and she knows the rest of the day is sure to bore her to sleep if watching a bunch of government workers squat on the floor is all that’s on the agenda.

Satsuki excuses them after that, leaving Ms. Ebihara alone with her crew as they retreat to one of the adjoining rooms. Ryuko hasn’t been in the mansion much before – only a handful of times after Ragyo’s defeat – but she figures that this room used to be a reading room or a library or maybe even an office. Most of the furniture has been cleared away, but a few large bookshelves remain along the walls. Satsuki moves to the far end of the room, where she pulls aside heavy curtains to reveal a window seat as the light comes streaming in from outside.

A cloud of dust is swept up in the process, and Ryuko watches in silence as the little particles slowly drift back down again. Satsuki gazes out the window. Then, she sits down with her back against one edge of the window frame, and brings her feet up over the cushion to lay them out across from her.

“I used to like spending time in this room when I was a child,” she tells Ryuko. “I could hide away right here with a book, and lose myself for hours. Especially when I drew the curtain over.”

Ryuko comes forward to take a seat beside her, mirroring her sister’s position on the other end of the cushion. It’s a bit of a squeeze, but they manage to fit comfortably on it together. The window faces one side of the yard, and provides a view of the mountainside. 

“It’s a nice spot,” Ryuko says. 

“It’s especially nice because she wouldn’t come here often.” Ryuko doesn’t need to ask whom she’s referring too. “The décor was too simple for her tastes, I think, and she never bothered renovating it. She preferred some of the other studies around the house.” 

The look in Satsuki’s eyes is distant as she focuses on something out the window, but not lost the way it is when she sometimes lapses into flashbacks. Ryuko’s hand against her leg draws her attention back.

“How are you feeling?” she asks her. Satsuki scarcely ever initiates conversations that have to do with her turbulent memories.

“Not too bad at the moment,” Satsuki says. She reaches forward then, to graze the tips of Ryuko’s fingers with her own. “Thank you for coming.” 

Ryuko smiles her crooked smile, and says, “It’s nothing, seriously. You don’t have to keep saying it.” 

“I just don’t think you know how much it means.”

She doesn’t answer at that, only scoots her hand further into Satsuki’s so that their fingers lace over for a moment.

“You better not be getting sappy, Eyebrows,” she teases, squeezing her hand lightly. Satsuki rewards her with an eye roll. 

“God forbid you exchange affections without cracking a joke, Ryuko.” There’s no venom behind her words, and Ryuko can tell the sigh she breathes is only meant to tease her back. But there’s an ounce of truth there, and it throws her slightly on the defensive. She’s about to crack back a comment when a knock from the other end of the room cuts her off. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Ms. Ebihara says. They turn to find her standing by the doorway, hand raised against the frame where she just rapped her knuckles. “I was hoping you might show me around quickly; we found something that caught our attention.”

“That was fast; you lead an efficient team,” Satsuki says. She’s already pulled her hand away from Ryuko and is making her way off the window seat and back towards the room’s entrance. Ms. Ebihara makes a vague noise in acknowledgment of Satsuki’s compliment.

Ryuko quickly follows behind her, and they find themselves halting right before Ms. Ebihara, who hasn’t budged from where she blocks the doorway. Her eyes are openly calculating as she stares at them, gauges her thoughts and weighs her words. She’s pretty, with fine angular features than make her look stern but rather unguarded – like she’s not afraid in the least to show what’s running through her mind.

“I don’t mean to be obtuse,” she starts off, “and please correct me if I’m wrong – but is your relation not professional? I was under the impression that Ms. Matoi was an assistant to you in the company when I saw her copied in our emails… For the sake of confidentiality, we prefer to avoid involvement of unaffiliated parties – partners included.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, Ryuko thinks her heart is going to stop right on the spot. Sitting together by the window like that – in hindsight, she realizes it couldn’t have seemed professional at all, so Ms. Ebihara’s conclusion might be a reasonable one to come to. Still, she can’t find her voice, can hardly keep her facial expression in check at the suggestion, and is glad that Satsuki seems utterly unaffected by the misunderstanding.

“You’re mistaken on both accounts, actually,” she corrects her coolly. Ryuko doesn’t know how her voice stays so level. _Maybe because you’re the only fucked up person here who thinks about making out with their own sister on the daily_ , she thinks.

“I’m sorry if there was some confusion, but Ryuko is my sister,” Satsuki continues her explanation. The surprise is plain of Ms. Ebihara’s face.

“Sister,” she repeats. “Adoptive, then? The surname is Matoi, correct?” She’s addressing Ryuko directly now.

“Y-yea,” she answers, managing to find her voice again. “And we’re blood related… It’s just a little complicated." 

“I’m sorry for making assumptions,” she says, dipping her head into a bow. “I had no idea Kiryuin Ragyo had two daughters.”

“It’s no problem,” Satsuki tells her. “It’s my fault for not mentioning it. I just assumed you would have had access to family records.”

“I’m afraid that’s not information my department is allowed to tap into,” Ebihara says. “Alright, since that’s cleared up, let's get down to it. Matoi can come along as well, since she’s of kin.” 

They walk back to the little circle of agents working diligently in the middle of the floor, and Ebihara gestures for them to look over on one of the monitors they have set up. There’s a three dimensional model of the house floating on the screen, secret rooms and all, and it’s speckled with different shades of color.

“Do you see this area here?” she asks them, pointing to what looks like the lowest level of the manor. The space there is tinted bright red. “We’re picking up a lot of residual energy, so I’d like to check it out if you don’t mind.” 

“That room looks big enough to have stored the Original Life Fiber,” Ryuko says to herself as she leans in for a closer look.

“That was exactly its purpose,” Satsuki tells her. She then backs away from the monitor, indicating with a motion of her head for them to follow her.

They make their way to the basement level of the mansion, and eventually Ms. Ebihara probes, “So, you knew about the Primordial Life Fiber when it was being kept here?”

“I only learned of its existence shortly before trying to have Ragyo step down from power,” Satsuki answers, bristling at what sounds like a veiled accusation. Ryuko glances quickly between the two women, registering the plain curiosity in Ms. Ebihara, and the creeping nervous energy in Satsuki. It seems to be getting worse the farther they walk into the manor.

But she doesn’t show any sign of faltering. They arrive at the room in question with no other exchanges, and Ryuko is sure that Ebihara hasn’t noticed the way Satsuki’s posture has gone the slightest bit more tense than it usually is. It’s something she’s able to pick up on herself only through having lived together these past months. And right now, Satsuki looks like she could drown in bad thoughts at any minute.

It comes at no surprise to Ryuko then, that about halfway through the time it takes for Ms. Ebihara to set up her equipment at their new location, Satsuki excuses herself. She says she has to take a phone call. Ryuko has the sneaking suspicion that she’s lying, and makes to follow her out, but a dismissive gesture lets her know she should stay put. With her sister suddenly gone, she finds herself alone with Ebihara in the massive room. She feels self-conscious at every step she takes, at the way the sound of her shoes against the flooring sends little echoes rippling around them.

Ms. Ebihara, though, is utterly immersed in her work. When the silence between them remains uninterrupted for a few long minutes, Ryuko decides that taking her phone out to distract herself is probably fine. The better part of an hour passes by this way, and she starts to worry over where Satsuki might be. As soon as Ebihara starts collecting her things to leave again, Ryuko becomes antsy. 

“The tests look clear,” she tells her, tucking her laptop underneath her arm so she can rearrange a few loose papers back into a folder. “I can make copies of the results for you, if you’d like.”

“Take it up with Satsuki; she’ll let you know,” Ryuko says quickly. She feels no attachment to the manor, negative or otherwise, so it makes sense for her sister to handle any and all decisions in this little investigation.

“Not one for conversation, are we?” Ebihara has made her way over to Ryuko now, and if she stood any closer she would be easily invading personal space. “Since you’re also an inheritor to this place, it doesn’t necessarily need to go through Satsuki. Or did she specifically tell you to leave everything to her?”

“She didn’t tell me anything, I’m just not interested in the business side of this stuff. I’m here to support Satsuki and that’s it.”

Ms. Ebihara pauses in thought, looks at Ryuko in a way that makes her feel like she’s being turned inside out.

“Yes, you two seem quite close,” she says. Ryuko can’t be sure if she means anything by it, and decides that withholding a reply might be the best course of action. Not that there would be anything to say on the matter anyway. 

“You’re really related, then?” Ebihara asks.

“What reason would we have to lie about it?”

“I’m not making accusations, I’m just surprised… The two of you seem quite different in terms of personality, mannerisms – although I guess I can see the physical resemblance a bit now.”

“Yea, well we didn’t grow up together,” Ryuko says quickly. She doesn’t know why exactly, but this woman’s blatant probing has started to rile her up. She bites her tongue though, stops herself from divulging anything else personal. The shorter her patience, the poorer her filter and self-restraint become. 

“Interesting…” Ebihara looks like she’s about to lean in closer, like she’s just spotted something that warrants narrower inspection. Ryuko backs away, even though it irks her to do so – feels like giving in.

“Your eyes are fascinating,” she tells her. Ryuko is at a complete loss for words at that.

“S-sorry?”

“Your eyes – your irises almost looks patterned. I’ve never seen anything like them.”

“Oh – um, yea,” Ryuko mumbles, looking away, like the motion of her eyes alone will stop them from being scrutinized. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to have you flustered,” she laughs softly. It’s a mildly derisive sound, and suddenly the very appealing thought of punching this woman in the face creeps into Ryuko’s mind. Better not to hit a government agent, though.

“I’m all set down here, if you want to show me out again,” she says quickly, not giving Ryuko any time react to her previous comment. She then steps slightly aside, and gestures with her hand to let her walk out first. Ryuko can’t help but become bristled at that – she’s ever polite in her tone and posture, but the way she speaks and questions like she’s entitled to every answer rubs her the wrong way.

They find Satsuki in the room where Ebihara’s colleagues are still examining figures and numbers when they get back upstairs. Ryuko recognizes the slump in her shoulders at once – the way they stoop so that she’s the slightest bit curled in onto herself. But once Satsuki spots them across the room, she straightens up immediately. 

Ebihara relates the information she’s gathered back to her, and Ryuko suddenly goes ignored again now that her sister’s taken the reins. A few more hours pass, during which Ryuko mostly stays in place while Satsuki takes Ebihara through the manor at her request. By the time her team finally finishes up, Ryuko can feel the empty weight of hunger settling in her stomach. 

She breathes a sigh of relief when she and Satsuki are finally locked in the car alone again. As soon as the ignition’s started, Ryuko turns the heating for their seats on – her own on the highest setting, Satsuki’s on the lowest. 

“I don’t like her,” Ryuko says, almost scowling as she watches the cars pull out of the driveway before them. “She’s a total bitch.”

“Based on an hour’s worth of conversation, that’s a pretty strong opinion to have of someone.” Her tone indicates her disapproval at the swearing. She’s staring absentmindedly at the cars receding in the distance now, toying with the lid of her thermos sitting in the cup holder.

“It was long enough to know she rubbed me the wrong way.” 

Satsuki makes a humming sound, and says, “I didn’t like her much either, to be honest. But at least it’s all over with.”

“Yea, good riddance,” she grumbles, reclining in her seat with her arms crossed over her chest. She almost raises her feet against the dashboard, but stops herself when she remembers the scolding she got for it last time.

“How you doing?” Ryuko asks then, glancing over at Satsuki without turning her head.

“I’m tired,” she says eventually. It seems to prompt her to move, though, because she sets the car into reverse after that and turns the car around so they can leave. 

“What to do you wanna do for dinner?” Ryuko asks. Her stomach grumbles as though on cue.

“I don’t know,” Satsuki sighs. “You can call for takeout, when we’re halfway home. That way it’ll be there just about when we get back.”

“What do you want?”

“Anything, it doesn’t matter.”

“Pizza?” Ryuko asks tentatively.

“No, you ordered pizza just the other week.” 

“I thought you said _anything_.”

“Fine, order the pizza,” Satsuki sounds exasperated. 

“Nah, we can get something else if—” 

“No, it’s fine,” she cuts her off. “I don’t really feel like eating much anyway, so you can go ahead and order it.”

Satsuki’s too drained to even think of ordering food. And much too tired to argue over what to get. It all feels like an uphill battle. The memories brought back by having spent the day in the manor don’t help either. She’s thankful when Ryuko leaves her to her own thoughts after that, only speaking again when she gets her phone out to order food.

The rest of the ride is spent in the same silence. The radio’s turned on to a talk station and Ryuko gazes out the window without so much as a glance in her sister’s direction. She’s deliberately trying to make her presence scarce, because she’s learned to detect when Satsuki wants to be alone – and this is definitely one of those times.

When they get home, she only stays downstairs long enough for the pizza to come. They eat together, although Satsuki doesn’t have much, and as soon as that’s done, she heads upstairs to retire for the evening. Ryuko figures she won’t want to be bothered again, and wishes her a good night.

* * *

 

There are hands over her body, and it’s the most real thing she’s ever felt. There’s no way – no way this isn’t happening right here and now, despite all logic, because the sensation couldn’t be so vivid if it were a dream. It’s like the memories have engrained themselves right into her skin.

And she can’t speak. She holds her tongue because she’s learned years ago that fighting, protesting, only makes things worse. Makes her angry, more hurtful, more insistent. She knows she could let herself scream and cry, but that would surely give the monster too much satisfaction. The path of least resistance is the best way to get through – grit your teeth and close your eyes and shut yourself down as she takes what she pleases. 

The mind can weather stress like steel, but the body has its limits. She can’t help but tremble as her heart hammers in her chest – so loud that she’s sure everyone in the world can hear her frantic pulse.

It’s this pounding in her ears that wakes her, reveals it all to be in her head. Satsuki startles upright, lashes out in her disorientation, and her hand collides with something hard. The crashing of something heavy onto the floor confirms it to be the lamp normally sitting at her bedside. A book might have fallen too – she can’t be sure in all this darkness, can hardly keep a single thought straight in her head.

She’s breathing hard, feels sweat bead over her brow, keeps her eyes closed as she focuses on regaining her bearings. Just when she’s started to settle down, she realizes there’s a banging at the door that was previously lost on her, as disconnected as she was form her surroundings. Before she can react, the door swings violently open and a shadow she deduces to be Ryuko tumbles into the room. 

“Satsuki, what’s wrong?” she’s suddenly drawing closer, and Satsuki can feel the panic rising in her chest again. She doesn’t want Ryuko to see her like this – needs to be alone.

“Get out!” She can’t quite pick up on the volume of her own voice, but she figures it was close enough to a yell, because Ryuko startles back a step and freezes.

“I said get out, Ryuko!” she repeats when her sister fails to react. It seems to do the trick, because in a second Ryuko’s rushed out of the room again and the door slams shut behind her.

Satsuki loses track of time as she sits there on the bed, immobile, clutching her pillow to her chest. When the panic has passed, she looks down over the side of the bed to assess the damage she caused. The lamp doesn’t look broken, and neither does the bulb from what she can see. Its base is heavy – the sound of it hitting the floor is no doubt what alerted Ryuko.

She feels bad for shouting. But her need to be left alone was so strong that she can’t say she’s sorry for shooing her out. She can’t tell how much time has gone by since it happened, but the creaking of the floorboards in the hallway tell her that it isn’t long enough that Ryuko decided to go back to her room yet. Slowly, she wills herself out of bed and to the door. She turns the handle quietly before opening it to look outside. 

Ryuko is sitting there, at the top of the stairs, staring down into her lap. The image of a dejected puppy pops into Satsuki’s head as she watches her brood.

“Ryuko,” she calls her attention softly. Ryuko looks up at her a second before turning her gaze away again.

“I-I knocked, you know,” she says. “I wouldn’t just… barge in. I got worried.”

“I know. I just… couldn’t react until you were already inside.” 

Ryuko doesn’t say anything, plays with her fingers instead. She keeps her head bent down towards her lap.

“Ryuko, come here,” Satsuki tells her. The air feels heavy between them, especially when Ryuko continues to refuse to look up at her. She obeys the request, though. She rises slowly from her seat at the top of the stairs, and makes her way over to where Satsuki stands at the doorway to her bedroom.

“I shouldn’t have yelled, I’m sorry,” Satsuki says. At that, Ryuko leans forward to press herself into the fabric of her shirt. Her arms wrap her into a hug that Satsuki returns without pause. 

“If you ever want my help for anything, just let me know, okay?” Ryuko says, her face still pressed against her shoulder. She can’t see Satsuki nodding, but she feels the movement when her head moves up and down against her own.

They stay like that, holding each other, until Ryuko feels Satsuki’s body slumping against hers. Her cheek falls down like a weight against the top of her head as she lolls into sleepiness.

“Let’s get you back to bed, Nee-san,” Ryuko says with a soft touch against her back, signaling she’s about to let go. They head into the room, and Satsuki stops to pick the lamp up from where it fell onto the floor. Ryuko collects the books that lie alongside it, and pats her hand down against the rug just to make sure that there are no shards of anything broken left behind.

By the time she’s finished her inspection, Satsuki is already sitting on the mattress, with her legs hanging off the side. She reaches out for Ryuko’s arm once she’s close enough, and Ryuko sits down beside her at the unspoken request. This time, Satsuki is the one to initiate contact as she scoots her way into her sister’s arms. After a few minutes, she can feel her eyelids growing heavier as her body leans further against Ryuko’s in her sleepiness. 

“Let me stay with you, if you think it’ll help you sleep,” Ryuko tells her. The thought alone is warm and comforting, and she doesn’t want to lose this feeling of safety, so Satsuki, in her sleep-addled state, doesn’t even think to reject the offer.

She moves back onto her pillow, lifts up the sheet so that Ryuko can crawl in with her. As soon as they’ve both settled themselves in, Satsuki shifts closer again. 

“Going back there today was a terrible idea,” she tells Ryuko. There’s exhaustion in her voice, worse now that she isn’t actively working to keep it hidden. 

“You won’t have to do it again, I promise.”

Satsuki hums a sound that Ryuko thinks indicates relief, but she can’t quite tell. She then reaches for Ryuko’s hand and brings it up over her waist and around her back, prompting her to keep holding on. Her breathing levels out before long, like she’s going to lose herself to sleep any second.

Satsuki wants to be closer still, revel in the warmth that she hopes will ward off dreams for the rest of the night. Her hand moves against Ryuko’s lower back, pulling her close enough that their knees knock together.

“Is this fine?” she asks sleepily. Ryuko nods quickly. She can’t trust her voice at the moment, not when Satsuki’s fingers trace against the skin at the small of her back, where her shirt has ridden up. Heat immediately sinks down and pools low in her stomach.

It feels suddenly too warm beneath the covers, but she doesn’t move out of fear of disturbing Satsuki. Her eyes are already shut, and her breathing suggests she’s asleep. Ryuko’s glad for the small space left between their bodies, and the room it provides to keep from overheating. As it is, the image of Satsuki in her arms – small and unguarded, immeasurably different form the woman she met over two years ago, but still just as strong – has all sorts of feelings coursing through her.

She would kiss her in an instant, if Satsuki asked her to. But initiating anything is too hard; the potential of messing everything up between them is too frightening.

Ryuko knows her feelings aren’t right. She’s tried to turn them off before, but nothing seems to work. Maybe that’s the curse she has to bear for thinking of Satsuki this way.

When she wakes up in the morning, she isn’t the least bit surprised that she dreamt of Satsuki. And when she sees her sister lying in bed beside her, still within arm’s reach, a twinge of embarrassment rises up as she recalls those dreams in detail. But she stays there nonetheless, not wanting to leave Satsuki alone, letting herself enjoy the moment.

“You are a cuddler after all,” Ryuko teases her once she sees her opens her eyes. Satsuki rubs at them slowly, and sits up to stretch her arms above her head.

“You didn’t seem to mind,” she says with a small smile.

“Did you at least sleep better?”

“Yes, I think so. Thank you for staying,” she tells her. Her voice is soft, like she’s embarrassed.

“Anytime.” Ryuko doesn’t expect that something like this will happen again– but out of boldness, she allows herself that response. God knows she wouldn’t ever say no if Satsuki asked something like this of her in the future.

And then, before Ryuko can lose herself on that train of thought, a small laugh escapes her.

“What?” Satsuki asks.

“Look at your bedhead!” Ryuko sounds too delighted at the discovery. “Holy shit and here I thought you rolled out of bed perfect every morning.”

She receives a pillow to the face for that, but it doesn’t stop her from laughing into it.

“Geez, alright, I’m sorry,” she says once she wrestles the pillow off her. “I didn’t mean nothing by it.” Satsuki rolls her eyes, and before Ryuko knows it, she’s already out of bed.

“Time to get up,” she tells her. Ryuko makes a grumbling sound and turns to glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table. According to Satsuki, waking past nine in the morning makes you an unproductive member of society. According to Ryuko, being forced to wake up before ten is criminal. It’s somewhere between those two hours now, so she figures her morning could be worse.

Ryuko heads back to her room after that, gets dressed, and doesn’t cross paths with Satsuki until she joins her downstairs. She tries, then, to ask about what caused the events of the night before, but unsurprisingly receives no real answer. Perhaps questioning her when she was half-asleep in the middle of the night would have rewarded her with a response – but that would have felt wrong, like she was taking advantage of her when she was already emotionally vulnerable.

But Satsuki is ever a private person, ever opposed to showing signs of weakness when she can suppress them. It started out with the exhaustion, the jumpiness, and then flashbacks during the day, and now the terrors as night. And even though brief moments of happiness shine through on occasion, Satsuki’s mental health gets inevitably worse with time.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ft. Nonon and Ryuko's beef

Since drinking is evidently a poor remedy for her anxieties, Satsuki turns to over the counter sleeping pills, hoping they’ll help her get through the night when she’s feeling particularly on edge. The first time she takes them, they keep her knocked out successfully, but she wakes in the morning with vivid memories of her dreams. They distract her throughout the day. With brief trial and error, she realizes they seem to work best when she pushes herself to stay up late. She suspects it has to do with her levels of exhaustion at that point.

She keeps it from Ryuko. In fact, the amount of time she spends interacting with her sister drops dramatically after the day they return from the visit at the manor. She tries not to show it, but going back there has left her rattled. Her own room growing up, Ragyo’s room, the study, the baths – seeing them all after months of distance has made her realize just how many horrid memories lurk in every corner of the place.

She’s always been a proud person – confident in her actions, in her decisions, and in her morals. But the shame she feels when she thinks back on those things bring about self-loathing. And this hatred of her weakness only feeds back into the shame, until the cycle looks as though it will never meet an end. Forgiving others is hard, but absolving herself seems almost impossible.

Appearances are important to maintain as the head of an international conglomerate, so she manages to hold pieces of herself together when she’s at the office. This only means that all of her energy has drained by the time she returns home. It makes it hard to interact with Ryuko in any way that feels meaningful. She takes time to herself instead – locks herself in the study or in her room, takes long showers that have her spacing out beneath the water, reads on the couch without really registering words on the page, pushes the limits of her wakefulness before crashing with the help of pills. 

But Ryuko finds out about that last bit before long. Turns out little caplets might be as unsustainable as alcohol.

“Oi, Sats,” she hears her name being called. “Can you hear me? C’mon, you need to wake up.”

A hand against her shoulder is shaking her gently. She realizes she’s still in bed as she forces her eyes open. Ryuko is standing above her, and the fact that she’s dressed – hell, just the fact that she’s awake – lets her know that it’s much later than her usual wake-up time.

She tries to sit up, does so too quickly, and her head spins as the edges of her vision white out. Her ears are buzzing a bit and she waits until the blood has washed back up to her face before turning to her sister.

“Damn, how much of this shit did you take?” Ryuko asks her. She’s holding the little box of sleeping pills in her hand, shaking it back and forth to beckon Satsuki’s attention. 

“The box is half empty, Sats, tell me you didn’t take this all in one night,” she says when she doesn’t receive and answer.

“I didn’t,” she quickly assures her, raising a hand to press it against her brow. Her head is throbbing. “I just took one extra, that’s all… You can’t overdose on over the counter drugs like these, anyway.”

“Yea, you’ll just fuck up your organs or whatever… Doesn’t this shit cause internal bleeding or something? Or is that Tylenol?”

“Ryuko, I think I can read the direction on the label just fine,” she snaps, still in the process of waking from her drowsiness. “Besides, who gave you the right to come in and—”

Her eyes widen when she sees the time displayed on the clock at her bedside. It’s nearly eleven and she should have been at work about two hours ago. Immediately, she wills herself into alertness and makes to stand up. Ryuko’s hand over her shoulder stops her.

“Easy, you don’t need to be going anywhere,” she tells her. “I called up Hououmaru a while ago. Told her you wouldn’t be coming in.”

“What?” Satsuki’s stood up at that, looking just about ready to commit murder. Ryuko doesn’t back off though, stays in place and stares right back. “And what gives you the right to call in sick for me?”

“Listen, you were passed out to shit,” she says. She’s trying not to raise her voice, and it comes out a sort of angry rasp. “I came in when I saw your car was still in the driveway, and you hardly budged when I tried to wake you up.” 

Satsuki’s scowling, but she lets herself sit back onto the mattress again.

“I thought I’d let you sleep it off a little while… but I was starting to get worried,” Ryuko says. When Satsuki gives no sign of replying, she continues, “How long have you been taking these?”

“I don’t know,” she sighs. “A few weeks.”

Ryuko makes a sound at the back of her throat to indicate her disapproval.

“I think I made the right call, then,” she says.

“The right call? Regarding what?” Satsuki repeats, letting her confusion bleed through. 

“I told Hououmaru that you wouldn’t be coming in for the rest of the week, either.”

Satsuki is at a loss for words for a good few seconds.

“You—” she seems to be struggling to piece a thought together. “I’m sorry, Ryuko, you did what?”

“I said, I called in sick for you for the week.”

“On what grounds did you assume that authority?!” 

“On the grounds that I’m your sister,” she growls. “And that I care enough to see that you take care of yourself.”

Ryuko’s gone intense, and Satsuki can’t bring herself to break eye contact. When she eventually stands again to brush past her, she heads for her closet to dig through for some clothes. It gives her something to do, and will hopefully prompt Ryuko out of her room at the same time. But she stays put where she left her standing.

“I can just work from here, you know,” Satsuki tells her stubbornly.

“Sure, if you promise you’ll stop with the pills,” Ryuko retaliates. “And if you start eating right again, because I can’t remember the last time I saw you finish a meal.” 

Satsuki stays mute at that, but her shoulders slump slightly – in resignation or fatigue, Ryuko can’t be sure.

“I’m just looking out for you.”

The sound of the door shutting softly behind her leaves an empty silence hanging in the room.

* * *

Satsuki manages to hold up both ends of the bargain, more or less. She spends time with Ryuko when she’s not in class, and they make sure she eats – or at least tries to – three times a day. In exchange, she’s allowed to work from about eleven in the morning to two in the afternoon. Ryuko set those parameters, and Satsuki doesn’t complain because she’s surprised that she’s even granted that much. And even though she doesn’t like to admit it, the break has her feeling much less stressed out.

On the Thursday of that week, Ryuko returns home from school by midday, and immediately suggests to Satsuki that they step out for a bit. She’s been trying to get her out of the house more, even though her levels of motivation make it difficult to do very much at all.

About an hour later, they’re sitting on a bench at a local park, facing the fountain at the center of the pond before them. During warmer months of the year, children would be running about. But the early December chill has warded everyone away, save a few couples and the occasional runner determined enough to maintain their outdoor workout routine.

Ryuko’s mind is about the farthest it can be from health and fitness at that moment. She’s holding in her hands a warm, chocolate-filled pastry from a little European-style cafe a few blocks away. When she bites into it, little bits of steam roll away from its center as it meets the frigid air. She makes an audible sound of pleasure as she chews and swallows. 

“Your fingers are going to go absolutely numb,” Satsuki comments as she watches her eat. She’s holding in her own hands a hot cup of tea. “You should’ve brought gloves.”

“It’s not that cold. Besides, I woulda just had to take ‘em off to eat anyway.”

“Suppose so…”

“You wanna try some? It’s fucking delicious.” She holds up the pastry towards her as she makes her offer.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Your loss,” Ryuko mumbles after taking another mouthful. In approximately ten seconds, the rest of pastry’s completely disappeared.

As soon as her hands are free, she tucks them underneath her legs to try to warm them up again. When that doesn’t work after a few minutes – the cold surface of the bench must no be doing anything to help – she raises them to her face and breathes warm air over her fingers. She tries to make it look as casual as possible, tries not to shiver, because Satsuki surely won’t let her hear the end of it otherwise.

Satsuki does notice, though. And instead of being chided, Ryuko is surprised to see her sister remove the patterned blue scarf from her own neck.

“I-I’m fine, keep it,” Ryuko says. Satsuki clearly doesn’t want to hear it, because she’s already begun wrapping it around Ryuko.

“Don’t be obstinate. This works out anyway; I was getting too warm with both it and the coat on.”

Ryuko doesn’t say anything as Satsuki continues to bundle her up, fussing over the way the scarf falls around her neck and tucking the ends into her jacket, which she zips further up her chest for good measure. When she pulls away to admire a winter-ready Ryuko, she can’t help the look of self-satisfaction that falls over her face.

Ryuko says something under her breath, but has enough self-restraint not to roll her eyes.

“What?” Satsuki asks.

“Nothin’. Wish you could see just how damn pleased you look with yourself,” she teases her with a small smile.

“You look cute,” Satsuki says, like it’s supposed to provide explanation. “I think red suits you better, but blue brings out your eyes.”

Ryuko can feel herself flush and tucks her chin in to hide the lower half of her face behind the newly acquired scarf. Its fabric is soft against her skin, and Satsuki’s smell immediately envelops her. She closes her eyes and sits still for several instants. 

“Y’know, Nonon texted me the other day,” Ryuko says eventually. Satsuki, surprised by the new topic of conversation, tears her gaze away from the pond water to fixate Ryuko instead.

“So?”

“Well, first off, I don’t even know how she got my number,” Ryuko whines. “But that’s beside the point… She asked about you.”

Satsuki hums, then looks up at the sky and says, “I guess I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Yea, guess she must’ve been concerned enough if it warranted going out of her way to contact me.” 

“The two of you don’t hate each other nearly as much as you pretend to,” Satsuki says with an eye roll. “Sorry if she’s been bothering you, though.”

“Nah, this is perfect.” Ryuko can’t help the grin that spreads the corners of her lips—wide enough that she feels her skin split a little where it’s become chapped. “Now I finally have a good phone number to give out to solicitors. And I know who to prank call if I ever get bored.”

“…But seriously,” Ryuko clears her throat after a second, sits up straighter against the back of the bench. “I think you should get back to her. She told me she was trying not to bother you, because you said you were busy and stuff.”

“That’s not a lie,” Satsuki says defensively.

“I know. I’m just… relaying the message. Told her I would.”

“I’ll schedule something with her for next week, maybe even this weekend,” she decides after a minute. Ryuko genuinely smiles her encouragement at that.

A few minutes go by, during which Satsuki spaces out onto the little ripples the wind makes again the water, pretending not to notice the way Ryuko is fidgeting beside her. When she does eventually voice her thoughts, Satsuki is hardly caught off guard. She was expecting something like this to come up.

“I think it’ll be good to see Nonon,” she starts off, trying to keep her tone casual. “Do you think she’s someone you could talk to… y’know, about the stuff that’s been on your mind?”

At this point Ryuko doesn’t care who it is – she wants someone, anyone, to help Satsuki drag herself out of the mire. And the idea of a therapist died as quickly as it popped into her head when she realized the kind of response she would probably receive for suggesting it.

Satsuki shakes her head lightly at the question and says, “No, I don’t think I could tell Nonon.”

She’s toying at the paper cup in her hands, looking down into her lap. 

“Why not?” Ryuko asks. “You’ve known her for so long, you must trust her.”

“That’s not the issue,” Satsuki sighs. “…Just the memories make me feel nauseous, so I can’t imagine relating them all to someone else – having to voice and explain everything.”

“Well… is there anyone you wouldn’t have to explain it to?” 

“What do you mean?” She finally makes eyes contact with Ryuko then.

“Y’know, is there anyone who knows enough about whatever happened to talk it out?” Ryuko asks. “So you can just… skip over giving context. I thought Nonon might have been that person, but I guess not.”

“I’m sure Nonon has her speculations,” Satsuki thinks aloud. “But no one I’m close to has the kind of… contextual knowledge you’re talking about. Soroi’s probably the only person who really knows." 

“Is he off the table?”

“Absolutely.”

“I thought you said he practically raised you." 

“Exactly,” Satsuki says, emotion rising in her voice. “He’s been nothing but good to me – discussing it with him would be selfish; he would blame himself even more for not having prevented it.”

She stops to swallow harshly, and then continues, “Even if he already knows there’s nothing he could have done.”

This – whatever this is – is more than Ryuko had bargained for. Even though Satsuki’s staying vague, this is the first time she’s vented openly in any way about what’s been preoccupying her. It feels like it might be a step forward.

But at the same time, it scares Ryuko. It scares her that Satsuki’s sparse words are already enough to bring anger roiling beneath her chest. _You’re going to have to be much stronger than this if she decides to open up about everything one day_ , Ryuko tells herself. Someone her sister can lean on without fear of falling apart – that’s who she needs to be.

“I don’t want to push you to talk about it, but I also want you to feel better.” Ryuko says eventually. “And I’ve told you a bunch of times already, but I’m here for you. I’m sorry if hearing it gets annoying… b-but I care, you know?”

“Getting all sentimental on me, Ryuko?” Satsuki teases her in what Ryuko realizes is a loose imitation of the drawl in her own speech.

She’s fully aware that the sudden change in tone means Satsuki is trying to lighten the mood, but the trick works. Ryuko’s cheeks, already bitten red by the cold, flush a deeper shade and she hides behind the scarf again.

“Whatever, Kiryuin,” she growls, but it comes out a bit too flustered to sound menacing. A few months ago, Ryuko might have expected Satsuki to laugh at that. Instead, a trace of a smile only just touches her lips.

“You’re too good to me, Ryuko,” she tells her. “You’re my little sister, so it feels wrong, somehow, to make you share my burden. I don’t want to hurt you.”

In a second, the anger Ryuko thought she had dispelled hits her full force in the chest again.

“Seeing you suffer like this is what’s hurting me,” she says. “You can’t… You can’t just keep bottling it up until you break down!”

Satsuki bows her head the slightest bit, and the corners of her lips fall into a frown. She looks… defeated. Or maybe just exhausted all of a sudden.

“I’ll be happy once you’re happy, so get that shit mentality out of your head,” Ryuko continues. Satsuki doesn’t answer, and for a second Ryuko is scared she’s going to cry. But she doesn’t. Satsuki never cries. 

In fact, she remains impassive throughout the rest of their time at the park. _Great, Ryuko, one step forward, two steps back,_ she thinks, despite trying not to let frustration take hold of her.

She must not have messed up too badly, though, because on their walk back to the car, Satsuki takes Ryuko’s hand in hers for a brief moment. She lets go only when the cold biting at their fingers forces their hands back into their pockets.

* * *

 They’re sitting at a booth in the far corner of a quiet dinner, by a window facing the sidewalk. It’s a modest place with pricing to match, and they come by often because Nonon likes the aesthetic – which can be summed up as ‘pink over pink onto pink’. It looks like some retro American dinner pulled straight from an 80s film, only redecorated by a six year old girl. There’s a jukebox on the other side of the room, which Nonon promptly fed enough money into for over an hour’s worth of music as soon as they walked in. Satsuki recognizes barely half of the tunes, but she likes them better than whatever pop was queued up beforehand.

She’s sitting back in her seat now, gazing absentmindedly out the window as Nonon finishes up her food. There’s a huge piece of pancake skewered at the tip of her fork, and she drowns it in syrup before bringing the sopping mess to her mouth. And if that wasn’t already enough sugar, she reaches for the pink shake resting by her plate to wash it down.

“Come on, Satsuki,” she says once she’s finished swallowing. “You gotta come to the party – it won’t be as fun if it’s just me and the boys.”

“I’m thinking about it,” Satsuki tells her. She already knows she doesn’t want to go; the thought itself drains her, but she knows that she should. “It’s just that the Mankanshokus are also having us for Christmas Eve celebrations that night… And Ryuko definitely won’t let me talk myself out of that.”

“So? You’ll just come over after. Even if that means I have to invite Matoi and her slacker of a best friend.”

“Don’t pretend you weren’t going to invite them anyway,” she says, leaning forward to give her a stern look. “And it’s not an issue of logistics... I just know I’m going to be exhausted. And the company’s holding an event at headquarters the next day.”

“Satsuki,” Nonon pleads. “The event’s in the afternoon, right? You’ll be able to sleep in. And you can leave the party any time you want. Just stop by at least? Please.”

“You know I probably will.” Satsuki sighs a bit more deeply than necessary. Nonon’s eyebrow twitches.

“Probably?” 

“Probably,” she repeats. There’s a trace of a smile on her face. “And don’t worry, I’ll bring your favorite Kiryuin family member along with me.” Nonon groans at that.

“Seriously, that girl doesn’t know how lucky she is, spending so much time with you.”

Satsuki hums in thought instead of answering, guiding the straw in her drink in circles with the tip of her finger. She closes her eyes when she raises it to her lips. 

“Nonon, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous,” she says. There’s a gleam in her eye when their gazes meet again.

“She’s not worth being jealous of,” Nonon scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “That good for nothing delinquent. I’ll demolish her at the party, drink her under the table and give her an arm wrestling match she won’t forget – no, screw that, I want her to be sober when I have her ass handed to her on a silver platter… On second thought, no silver platter. She doesn’t deserve—”

Nonon’s stopped talking when something on the other side of the street catches her attention through the window. It’s Ryuko, waiting for the streetlight to change, hands buried in her pockets.

“Speak of the devil,” she mutters under her breath. Satsuki makes an amused sound at that – not quite a laugh. 

“I think you summoned her with all the passion behind your words,” she teases.

“Didn’t her class end just two minutes ago?” Nonon grumbles, glancing at the clock hung up on the wall above Satsuki’s head.

“Must have been dismissed early.”

“Or she skipped,” she says with a smile.

“No, she’s been good about attendance.”

Ryuko’s basically at the window now, and Nonon doesn’t look nearly as peeved as her ranting might suggest she would be when they make eye contact. Satsuki doesn’t need to look over to know Ryuko’s probably already instigating. The two of them have been like this almost every time she’s seen them together. She doesn’t doubt her own presence has something to do with it. 

“Be civil,” Satsuki warns. Nonon assumes an air of absolute innocence when she looks up at her.

But now Ryuko’s stopped right on the other side of the pane. She leans forward, opens her mouth to let her breath mist over the glass, and raises her finger to draw against the little cloud. A stick figure waving an obscene gesture in Nonon’s direction stands proudly on the window once she’s finished.

Nonon starts to replicate the gesture with her own hand, but is cut off halfway through the motion when the heel of Satsuki’s boot plants itself into her foot. She must have winced hard enough for it to be noticeable, because Ryuko’s stopped laughing and her eyes have darted to Satsuki. The strength of the glare she’s met with is enough to have her hastily wiping away her creation with the back of her sleeve. But apparently not enough to stop her from sticking her tongue out to Nonon before quickly walking off again.

“That was all her,” Nonon says when she receives the same glare. Satsuki rolls her eyes. “She totally started it that time.”

“You’re equally responsible.” 

“Yea, little miss Jakuzure,” Ryuko’s voice sounds right behind her. A second later something large is being shoved onto the booth beside Nonon. It’s a backpack, and judging by its weight, it’s filled with at least a couple textbooks. “Equally responsible.”

Ryuko then makes a shooing motion with her hands, indicating for Satsuki to scoot over, before taking a seat next to her. She reaches over for the shake sitting at the center of the table and draws a long sip from the straw.

“Hey, that’s mine,” Nonon tells her, swiping the glass away from her hands.

“Yea, no wonder it looks and tastes like something a unicorn barfed out.” 

“Ryuko, stop instigating,” Satsuki interrupts before things can escalate.

“Alright, alright,” she sighs, leaning back and draping her arms across the back of the seat. “I know I was supposed to come later, but my class finished early.”

“Actually, Matoi, this is good timing,” Nonon tells her. “We were just talking about plans for Christmas Eve.”

“Christmas Eve? Sats and I are already going to the Mankanshokus.” Nonon visibly bristles at the nickname, and Ryuko grins in response.

“Yea, well I’m having a party – afterward, because my family is also having a dinner and whatever.”

“So you’re inviting me? I’m flattered.”

“Like I have a choice,” Nonon says. “But I take it that means you’ll come.”

“Yea, sure.” Ryuko intentionally comes off non-committal despite the fact that everyone at the table knows she has nothing on her agenda.

“Great, then that means you can make sure to bring Satsuki with you.” 

“Nonon, I already gave you my answer,” Satsuki sighs.

“Huh? You’re not gonna go?” Ryuko asks.

“I might go. Or I might not,” she says. “It’ll depend on how I’m feeling. Plus I have an event at work the next day.” 

“We’ll be there,” Ryuko tells Nonon. “Besides, Sats, you’ve been feeling better lately, haven’t you?”

‘Better’ is not the word Satsuki would choose to describe her mental state lately. Even though she’s been less on edge, everything feels duller now, more subdued – and her motivation suffers for it. Her meetings with Nonon have become more regular, but often even they feel like too much effort when she’s been consistently working long days at the office.

“Sure,” she replies with a shrug. “I’ll probably end up going for a bit, but I’m not making any promises.”

“Well, I guess that’s good enough for me,” Nonon says, laying her palms out against the table to pull herself out of her seat. She shoves Ryuko’s backpack brusquely out of the way, sending it toppling to the floor. 

“Oi, watch it!” she snaps. “Those textbooks cost me half my damn wallet.” 

“You can have the rest of my shake, Matoi,” Nonon says, picking up her own bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “And you paid last time, Satsuki, so I have this one covered.”

“Thanks, Nonon,” Satsuki says.

“I’ll see you sometime before the party, I’m sure,” she says, turning around with a quick wave goodbye as she heads towards the front of the store. 

“Good riddance,” Ryuko mumbles loud enough that she knows her words will carry over. Nonon turns around to stick her tongue out before walking on.

Satsuki’s elbow nudging her hard in the ribs wipes the grin off Ryuko’s face.

“Hey, cut it out, that hurts,” she growls in pretend anger. 

“That’s what you get for being rude.”

“If she were nice to me, maybe I’d be nice back,” Ryuko argues.

“You’re both absolute children,” Satsuki tells her. “I’m starting to think you’re just keeping this up because you’re scared you’ll actually get along if you treat each other decently.”

Ryuko doesn’t say anything, only crosses her arms over her chest and mutters something Satsuki doesn’t catch. She then reaches for the shake Nonon left on the table, drinking until the suction from her straw makes slurping sounds against the bottom of the glass. Satsuki quickly puts and end to that, and ushers her out of the booth.

“You don’t have to go to the party if you really don’t want,” Ryuko tells her as they’re heading out. “But it’ll probably be fun. And more fun for me if you’re there.” 

“I’ll most likely go,” Satsuki says. “The elites and I haven’t been in one place together for a long time… I shouldn’t miss the opportunity.”

“Sweet, that’s the spirit. And if you’re not feeling good we can dip whenever.”

“I should be alright if you’re there,” she admits. They’re standing outside again, busy zipping up their jackets to ward off the cold. “I… I’ve realized lately how easy I feel around you. How effortless it can be compared to even interacting with Nonon, who I’ve known almost my entire life.”

Ryuko looks surprised, and her cheeks warm with color at the confession. Satsuki realizes she’s stumped her, so she raises her hand and places it over Ryuko’s head to cut the silence. When she ruffles her fingers lightly through it though, the gesture of affection seems only to aggravate her silence.

“Ryuko…” she calls her name. “Did I say something wrong?” 

“N-no,” Ryuko replies quickly at her prompting, finding her voice again. “I’m just… really glad to hear it.” She pauses then, before continuing, “I know I don’t always open up and stuff, but I feel that way too.”

Satsuki smiles when their eyes meet – wide and warm and happy – and it’s the most beautiful thing Ryuko’s ever seen. _Scratch that, you’ve seen her in that damn bathrobe, you’ve seen her wearing her glasses when she reads, you’ve seen her sleeping softly in your arms, you’ve seen—_ She cuts off her mental list and the images that come with it when she realizes it could go on forever. But this moment definitely holds a place on that list, because she swears she can practically see a bit of Satsuki’s teeth in that smile.

Her train of thought is cut off when her sister’s hand suddenly finds its way to her chin, pushing against it to close her jaw shut for her.

“Any wider and it would touch the ground, Ryuko,” she admonishes her. Her voice is level, but Ryuko swears she sees something like a hint of amusement in Satsuki’s eyes. It has her stomach fluttering over in little somersaults.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> xmas chapter in the middle of June. I felt super self-indulgent writing this.

“Are you nervous?” Ryuko asks. They’re sitting in the car, parked next to the Mankanshokus’ truck. The neon sign hanging up over the front of the house lights up Satsuki’s profile as it flashes on and off.

“Sort of,” she admits. “Nervous might not be the right word, though… I just feel tense.”

“It’ll be fine,” Ryuko assures her for what feels like the hundredth time in one night. “Mako’s super stoked to see you, and her folks are gonna make you feel right at home, I promise.” 

“I know; I’m really not that wound up,” Satsuki insists. “Waiting around just makes me think too much, and I’ll be fine once we’re in there, so we should go now.”

Without waiting for a response, she turns around to reach for the dessert she left on the back seat, and then holds the box out to Ryuko until she takes it from her. She opens the door on her side and steps out into the cold. Ryuko follows quickly behind. 

“Sats,” she stops her before she can step any closer to the front door. Satsuki turns to meet her eye.

“Nah, it’s nothing, never mind,” Ryuko says after a beat. She’s met with a questioning look, but doesn't follow up. She walks past Satsuki and knocks a couple of times on the door.

Ryuko hardly has time to pull her hand away before Mako throws it open and drags them both forward into a big hug. It feels like all the air from Satsuki’s lugs is being expelled by the force of it, and she marvels at how someone so small can muster up so much ridiculous strength. 

“Mako!” Ryuko exclaims.

“Guys, I’ve been thinking about this all day!” she says excitedly before releasing her hold on them. “Come on, we gotta get inside or Guts’ll try to sneak in again – and Mom says he has to stay out at least until she’s done in the kitchen.” 

They shuffle a few steps in and then Mako slams the door shut behind them. Ryuko then shrugs out of her jacket to toss it on the coatrack, and kicks off her shoes absentmindedly – makes herself at home.

“We brought dessert, I’ll go put it in the kitchen,” she says as she walks further into the room. Mako bounces excitedly after her, trying to peak inside the box, while Satsuki is left standing by the doorway. She hangs her coat beside Ryuko’s and tries not to look lost. 

About a second goes by before Mataro pops up to greet her. “Hey, Miss, long time no see.”

“It’s Mataro, right?” she asks. They’ve never spoken directly to each other before, and although Satsuki doesn’t mind children, she doesn’t quite know what to do with herself when she’s around them.

“You got it, sister.”

Satsuki raises an eyebrow.

“Ah – I didn’t mean like that,” he says quickly. “But, hey, if you think about it, Ryuko’s like my sister, and you’re her sister… So my sister’s sister must also be my sister.”

“Your logic isn’t flawed,” Satsuki tells him with a small smile.

“And you know what sisters do?” There’s a devious grin on his face now.

“What’s that?”

Mataro’s hand is suddenly in hers, and he drags her away from the entrance. She lets him lead her to the center of the room and he says, “They help their brothers set the table!”

“Is that right?” she asks, prying her hand away from his. Mataro looks at her with a proud smile. He’s already picked up a stack of plates from the tabletop, and is holding them out for her to take.

“Do gentlemen usually ask their guests to set the table for them?” she continues, but takes the plates from him nonetheless. She sounds amused more than anything.

“You being swindled, Satsuki?” Ryuko interrupts them.

“Geez, Mataro!” Mako joins in. “After Mom told you it was your turn to set!”

“It’s not my fault she fell for my charm,” Mataro says. Ryuko actually snorts out a laugh at that.

“If you’re not gonna set the table, then go help Dad out down the road. He walked to the store to pick up some drinks and stuff,” Mako tells him sternly. She doesn’t have to say it twice – before she’s finished her sentence her brother is practically running out the door.

“I swear, he always finds a way to get out of doing his chores,” she grumbles.

“Must be a younger sibling thing,” Satsuki teases with a glance in Ryuko’s direction.

“Hey, that was one time I forgot to take out the trash!”

“More than a couple times, actually.” 

“Whatever, you leave dishes in the sink sometimes,” Ryuko retaliates, taking some plates from Satsuki’s hands. “But I’m a good sister, so I’ll help you set the table.”

“Me too!” Mako says. With the three of them set to the task, it takes no time at all to have everything prepared. Mataro and Barazo return soon after they’ve finished, and at that point Sukuyo’s done preparing diner. 

Once they’re sitting at the table together, Satsuki is unsurprised to find that the high-energy seems only to be amplified. Everyone’s talking loudly across the table, passing plates and cracking jokes. Guts jumps onto her lap a couple of times, trying to make a grab at anything he can, but gets promptly tossed aside with every attempt. The dog slobbers all over and digs his paws into her legs, Mako leans into her space when she speaks, Sukuyo keeps piling seconds onto her plate, Barazo asks her all manner of odd questions, and Mataro might have a vocabulary colorful enough to rival Ryuko’s. But somehow, the atmosphere is warm and enjoyable – and Satsuki is especially happy when she notices how Ryuko beams around the Mankanshokus. Their gazes meet every now and then, when something happens that amuses either one or both of them, and linger long enough that Mako calls them out on ‘having too many inside jokes they’re not sharing’.

By the end of the meal, Satsuki’s loosened up enough that she actually lets out a laugh or two. She even lets Guts rest quietly by her lap when she’s finished eating, reaching over to pet his head on occasion. When Sukuyo stands up to bring the dishes back into the kitchen, Satsuki quickly stands up along with her.

“Let me help you,” she says as she leans over to collect a few plates in her hands.

“You’re such a dear, thank you,” Mrs. Mankanshoku tells her. Satsuki almost asks Ryuko to help as well, but stops herself when she seeing her in a fit of laugher along with Mako.

She follows Sukuyo into the kitchen – which turns out to be rather cramped with the both of them in there given that the house is rather small. They scrape plates together and wash them in the sink, and set about storing leftovers.  

“They’re certainly a lively bunch, don’t you think?” Sukuyo says when the hollering laughter form the other room doesn’t show signs of stopping. Satsuki only hums her agreement. There’s a soft smile on her lips. 

“I’m sorry if it’s overwhelming,” Sukuyo continues.

“No, not at all,” Satsuki replies. “I should be thanking you, really. What you’ve done for Ryuko… It’s brought some normalcy into her life. It makes me happy to see her around you.”

“Oh, well, it’s only natural,” she says quickly. “We were worried about her, y’know, when she first came in all bruised up and half naked… not to mention talking to her uniform.” 

A surge of guilt suddenly hits Satsuki – she knows Mrs. Mankanshoku means nothing by the comment, but it hurts her a little anyway. Memories of standing idly by while watching Ryuko get beaten come to mind.

“It’s only natural to you because you’re good people,” Satsuki brings herself to say. “I’m really glad Ryuko’s path crossed with Mako’s – with all of yours. She deserves better than what her real parents had to offer.”

“I know you girls have had it hard.” Sukuyo pauses then, drawing into her own thoughts. “Ryuko doesn’t share much of her past… and I’m sure you don’t either, but this is always a safe place to come to.”

“Th-thank you, ma’am. Ryuko certainly needs it, and she’s thankful even if she doesn’t always say so.”

“I already know that; she doesn’t have to say it.”

“She should, though… No one should take a family like this for granted, not when horrible alternatives exist.”

Satsuki has stopped washing the plate she’s holding, and stares off at the suds covering her hands before toweling them off slowly. She tries not to think of Ragyo, tries not to let her hands shake unsteadily like they do when she’s feeling on edge. 

Sukuyo must have sensed a change in her, because her hand comes up to rest over her arm and she says, “I know we can’t make up for your family’s circumstances, but you are always welcome here – you and Ryuko both.” 

Satsuki turns her head to look at her now.

“I mean it, Satsuki,” Sukuyo tells her. “If there’s anything I can do for you, don’t be afraid to let me know. Anything at all.”

A strong mix of sadness and happiness swell up into Satsuki’s chest, and she’s suddenly afraid she’s going to cry. Years have gone by without shedding a single tear in front of Ragyo, and yet a few words of warmth from Mrs. Mankanshoku manage get her choked up. She’d never known how much she’d needed or wanted to hear words like those from someone.

“Come here, dear,” she tells her softly. Before Satsuki can properly react, Sukuyo is holding her gently in her arms. It takes her a minute, but she eventually mirrors the hug, too. Mrs. Mankanshoku is about half a foot shorter than she is, but somehow she envelops her completely. She doesn’t feel threatened in the least, feels like she could let her barriers down without danger. And Satsuki realizes that this – _this_ is what a mother’s embrace feels like. It promises warmth and safety, makes her feel loved rather than vulnerable.

She squeezes Sukuyo tightly before pulling away, trying not to blink so that tears won’t fall down her cheeks. She tilts her head back a bit, lets out a deep breath.

“Thank you,” she says. Her voice is thick, and she lets out a soft laugh in semi-embarrassment at her own reaction to the affection. Sukuyo doesn’t answer in words, settles on offering up a warm smile instead.

Before the moment can draw out any longer, Mataro is shouting from the other room.

“Mom,” he drones out. “Is the dessert ready yet?”

“Mataro, she’s busy right now! You oughta go help her before complaining!” Mako scolds him.

“We’re just about done; it’ll be out in a second,” Sukuyo calls back. Then, she turns back to Satsuki and indicates for her to help with the dessert plates. “Leave the dishes, I’ll take care of them after.”

When they head back into the main room, Satsuki has managed to collect herself. Ryuko gives her a look, like she might have sensed a change, but soon forgets it after Satsuki gives her a nod of reassurance. The dessert doesn’t hurt in terms of distractions, either. Everyone is so busy cleaning off their plates that the rambunctious conversations actually see a stop for the first time since they walked in. 

Satsuki, Ryuko, and Mako don’t stay for much longer after that. The sisters thank Sukuyo and Barazo, and all three of them say their goodbyes before heading out again. Satsuki even stops one last time to pet Guts, who seems to have taken a liking to her.

* * *

 

They’re the last to arrive at Jakuzure’s. The house is huge – easily twice at big as the one Satsuki and Ryuko live in now. It might more appropriately be called a mansion. There’s a pretty archway at the path leading up to the entrance, and the front yard is filled with flowerbeds and perfectly trimmed hedges. Music is playing from inside the place.

“Wow! Nonon should host all parties from now on!” Mako says as she makes her way to the door. “This place looks super fancy!”

“Oi, Mako, slow down,” Ryuko calls out to her. She’s still standing on the sidewalk, waiting for Satsuki, who’s digging around for something in the back seat of the car. “Did you even remember your present?”

“Yep! Got it right here!” she says, waving a wrapped package back and forth in the air. They all agreed to participate in a Secret Santa for the party. Ryuko already knows Mako got Gamagori. She was so thrilled she spilled within the first few hours. 

“Here,” Satsuki’s voice makes her turn around. She’s holding out the present Ryuko brought.

“Hey, don’t be tryin’ to guess what’s inside or who it’s for,” Ryuko says as she takes it quickly from her. Satsuki rolls her eyes. There’s a present of her own slotted under her arm. 

“I already know you pulled Mako’s name.”

“Oi, quiet down,” Ryuko whispers, raising a finger to her lips. 

“Relax, she can’t hear you from all the way over there.”

“What are you guys whispering about?!” Mako then calls out from the other end of the pathway. “I don’t wanna wait out here all night!” 

“Yea, alright, we’re coming!” Ryuko says.

Mako startles when the front door suddenly opens behind her.

“Are you two morons done shouting?” Nonon snaps at them. “You’re disturbing the whole damn neighborhood!” 

“Oh, shut up, we could hear your damn music blasting from a block away,” Ryuko says, raising her voice for good measure. Nonon’s scowling and it looks like she’s fighting off the urge to slam the door in their faces. But then she catches Satsuki’s eye, and brightens up at once.

“Nice to see you too, Nonon,” Satsuki says. Nonon gives her a smile, and steps aside to let all three of them in. 

“Everyone’s in the living room,” she tells them. “We brought up the ping pong table from the basement – but no beer pong. We take table tennis seriously at this party; the monkey’s been leading most rounds. Plus my parents would kill me if we ruined the table.”

“Sounds like an excuse someone who’s bad at beer pong would make to avoid playing,” Ryuko says. “But whatever, this means I gotta go kick Sanageyama’s ass!”

With that she’s running ahead, letting the sound of music and familiar voices guide her into the living room. She shares brief greetings with everyone there, and then it’s all business. She grabs a drink, practically chugs it, and has a second one already uncapped when she walks over to steal a paddle from Inumuta. She had promised herself she wouldn’t drink too much tonight – for Satsuki’s sake, so she can at least respond to her cues if she feels like leaving early. But Sanageyama’s more than halfway to drunk and she has catching up to do.

Satsuki, for her part, joins Gamagori as the only other non-drinker for the night. Designated driver duties won’t have it any other way – not that anyone is getting particularly wasted since they all intend on spending Christmas morning with their families. She takes a seat beside him on the couch, and spectates on a video game she doesn’t recognize until he forces the remote into her hands so that she can play. Shiro and Nonon tease her for being spectacularly horrible, but after a few rounds she’s managed to at least get a handle on the mechanics.

Just when she thinks she’s getting good, video games seem to have lost their appeal as everyone degenerates into drunken rowdiness. Ryuko and Sanageyama’s ping pong matches have become so heated that Gamagori actually walks over to make sure things don’t become physical. Ryuko backs off after that, realizes her head is spinning and she’s lost count of the number of beers she’s had. She takes a seat on the floor, leaning back against the couch as she watches Gamagori take her place at the table instead. 

She glances around quickly, her head spins a bit but she can still focus on who’s sitting behind her. There’s Satsuki, and she seems engrossed in conversation with Mako, who’s showing her something with her hands – one of those games kids like to play in school yards. She’s tipsy at the very least, and her actions are uncoordinated, making it hard for Satsuki to follow along. Inumuta and Shiro were around earlier, too, but now they seem to have both inexplicably vanished.

“Matoi,” Nonon’s voice calls her attention. She’s holding a gift bag in her hand, extending it outwards before plopping it onto the floor beside Ryuko. “I want you to open it before you drink any more. Merry Christmas.”

“You’re my Secret Santa?” she asks.

“No, but I just love you so very much that I had to get you something anyway,” Nonon says with mock-sweetness in her voice. But then she grins wickedly and adds, “No shit, Sherlock. Come on, open it.”

Ryuko grabs the package and places it between her crossed legs before ruffling away the colorful tissue paper sticking out from the top of it. There’s a box inside. In her drunken state, it takes her a second to decipher the writing across it. As soon as she makes it out, she drops the box like it’s on fire, and clutches the bag quickly closed around it. She’s in a mild state of shock.

“Oi, w-what’s the fucking big idea?” she manages.

“Show us! Show us!” Mako cries. She’s sitting up on the couch excitedly, and when Ryuko turns to see that she has both Mako’s and Satsuki’s full attention, her face flushes crimson. 

“You don’t like it?” Nonon sounds much too pleased with herself. “I spent a long time thinking, and I don’t think you could find a present that better screams _‘go fuck yourself’_.”

There’s a moment of resounding silence before Mako breaks it.

“Oh my gosh, it’s not what I think it is,” she gasps. All of a sudden she’s launched herself forward, making a grab at the bag. Ryuko makes a sort of choked sound in embarrassment when it’s stolen away from her. 

“It is, it really is!” she says, pulling the box from the bag and holding it out in front of her. Ryuko can’t see her own face, but she’s sure she looks absolutely mortified. She glances at Satsuki out of the corner of her eye, but her sister’s expression has gone almost comically impassive.

“This is actually a good present, you know. Dildos aren’t cheap,” Mako says, completely serious.

“Like hell it’s a good present,” Ryuko grumbles, flushing up to her ears.

“The slacker’s right, Matoi,” Nonon says. “I went way over the price cap, to be honest. Too good an opportunity to let the joke pass by. And it’s phthalate-free – you’re welcome.”

“Yea, like I’m ever gonna use it,” she barks. “You perv.”

Nonon gives her an eye roll and says, “Whatever, like you’re not gonna try it out next time you’re jacking off.”

Satsuki clears her throat then, stopping her sister from responding. The expression on her face is unreadable in a way that only aggravates Ryuko’s discomfort. It makes her want hide away, blend into the carpet and disappear completely.

“I’m going to go find Inumuta,” she announces suddenly as she stands up. “I pulled his name for the gift exchange.” And with that she’s walked away from where they’re all sitting. Ryuko actually breathes a sigh of relief.

“Fuck, is she pissed?” Nonon asks, and the amusement washes away from her expression for the first time since she handed Ryuko her present.

“You just gave a dildo to her sister, what was she supposed to say?” says a voice previously not a part of the conversation. They turn to see Sanageyama, who’s started giggling between sips of his drink.

“Alright, that’s enough people knowing about the damn dildo,” Ryuko mumbles as she snatches it away from Mako, stuffing it back into the bag. She then goes off to place it by the front door, next to where her jacket is hanging. 

The entire incident seems to have shocked her back into sobriety. She pulls out her phone to check the time, sees it’s about one in the morning. Satsuki will be wanting to get home soon. She hopes the dildo is never brought up again.

Luckily for her, it seems quickly forgotten at soon as more presents are exchanged. She gives hers to Mako, who in turn hands one to Gamagori. Eventually, Satsuki makes it back to the living room with previously missing party members in tow.

The gathering starts tapering off when Nonon puts on a movie. Inumuta and Shiro are the first to leave, while Gamagori, Mako, and Sanageyama settle onto the couch to start watching. Ryuko casts a glance in Satsuki’s direction. They’ve gotten good at reading each other. She can tell immediately that she wants to get going. 

“Yo, guys,” she beckons the group’s attention. “I think we’re gonna dip.”

“But we just put on the movie!” Mako cries.

“Then make doubly sure to enjoy it in our place,” Satsuki tells her. Mako’s face settles into a pout, and Nonon jumps out of her seat to see them to the door.

“Merry Christmas!” Gamagori and Sanageyama call out in unison as the three of them leave the room. Ryuko says it back, and Satsuki gives them a smile and a small wave of her hand. 

“Thanks for coming after all, Satsuki,” Nonon says when they’re putting their coats back on in the foyer.

“You knew I’d make it.”

“Still,” she says with a shrug of her shoulders. She pauses then, looks like she’s about to say something, but stops herself. Eventually she manages to take a step forward, and Satsuki realizes she’s coming in to wrap her arms around her waist. It’s a rather short hug, as Nonon tends to make them.

“Oi, what about me?” Ryuko asks when they’re pulling apart. Nonon’s face immediately scrunches up in mock annoyance.

“I’d probably catch something,” she says. In response, Ryuko smacks her in the arm with the gift bag she’s holding – the one with the dildo in it.

“Do the two of you realize how alike you are?” Satsuki tells them. It has the desired effect, and immediately puts their current argument on pause as they look at her in disbelief. A strew of protests is suddenly thrown in her direction, and she can’t quite make out what either of them is saying.

“See what I mean?” she continues. At that, Nonon crossed her arms and stops talking.

“Whatever,” Ryuko grumbles, opening the front door. She does turn around though, before stepping out of the house, to say, “Merry Christmas, Jakuzure.” 

“Goodbye, Nonon,” Satsuki adds as she follows her out.

“See ya,” she says with a wave, and then the door is shut behind them. Ryuko’s already halfway down the path, and Satsuki has a satisfied smile on her face.

“You antagonize just as much as I do,” Ryuko accuses her. Satsuki doesn’t say anything, keeps walking towards her with measured steps. 

Ryuko turns around and makes her way towards the sidewalk. But then she stop when something catches her eye over the wooden arch framing the pathway. Maybe she’s tipsier than she thinks, because she doesn’t once question the idea as soon as it’s popped into her head. She stops right beneath it. And when Satsuki reaches her, she halts her stride with a grip to her elbow.

Satsuki faces her, gives her a look. Ryuko tilts her head upward, and Satsuki mirrors the motion.

“Aren’t ya supposed to give me a kiss?” she asks. 

She only really registers her own question when Satsuki looks back at her – surprise flashing over her features for the briefest of instants before her expression levels again. Ryuko swears she sees her eyes flit to her lips for a fraction of a second. Her mouth goes dry. She’s about to take it back when Satsuki speaks. 

“Remind me of the tradition, Ryuko,” she says softly. Ryuko wills herself not to become flustered.

“Y’know,” she tells her, breaking eye contact and digging her free hand into her pocket. “Christmas time, mistletoe.”

Satsuki hums before saying, “I see.” 

“See what?” 

“It’s a common misconception,” she elaborates, glancing back at the plant hanging above their heads. “Manny people mistake holly for mistletoe, if they don’t know what it looks like.”

Ryuko doesn’t know what to say, sighs with a defeated smile when Satsuki only continues staring at her.

“Geez, who knows that kinda thing anyway,” she says as she keep walking, down the steps and finally onto the sidewalk. Satsuki makes a little huffing sound. 

“Even if it were mistletoe, you haven’t earned a kiss, quite frankly,” she tells her.

“Yea, and why’s that?”

“You and Nonon are still as obnoxious as ever around each other.”

She doesn’t mean it, Ryuko knows, because she’s almost smiling when she says it. It doesn’t reach her lips, but the way her eyes glow betrays her.

* * *

 

By the time they’re home again, it’s well past two in the morning, and to Ryuko’s surprise, Satsuki asks her not to go up to her room right away. She makes her sit on the couch. 

“I know the idea of a Secret Santa is that you only have to get a present for a single person,” she says. “But I do have something to give you.”

Ryuko bounces immediately out of her seat and rushes for the stairs.  

“W-wait, if we’re doing this now, I wanna give you mine first!” she says as she takes them two at a time. She returns a few minutes later with two wrapped boxes in her arms.

“Two presents?” Satsuki asks, dropping onto the couch and motioning for Ryuko to sit beside her. “I’m feeling one-upped.”

“One of them’s kind of a joke gift,” Ryuko tells her. “Also, aren’t we supposed to do this in the morning?”

“It is Christmas morning,” Satsuki points out, raising her phone up to her to show her the date and time.

“Alright, alright, just open it then,” she says, shoving the gifts into her lap. “Start with the smaller one.” 

Satsuki does as she’s instructed, and tears through the paper lining the smaller of the two boxes. It’s one of those flimsy white cardboard boxes, the kind used to package clothing. She opens it to reveal a tacky sweater, too colorful to have anything close to a proper pattern, with a dog embroidered over the front of it. Ryuko thinks it’s one of the ugliest things she’s seen. Satsuki loves it.

“This is from that one time!” she says, pulling it out of the box. “How did you know I wanted it? I never even said a thing.” 

They had been on a shopping trip about a month back, and the sweater had been hanging in the display window of one of the stores at the mall. They hadn’t even gone inside, but Satsuki’s gaze lingered on it as they walked by.

“I could just tell,” Ryuko says. When one spends as much time watching Satsuki as she does, it’s hard to miss things. “Besides, I know you love dogs.”

“Well, yea,” she admits. “They’re caring, loyal, cute... sometimes scrappy. What’s not to love?”

“Cats are better,” Ryuko says quickly. “Y’know, proud, independent, and kinda sly, but still super snuggly.”

There’s a frown on Satsuki’s face, and Ryuko’s afraid she’s delved into a topic that her sister isn’t going to drop. She quickly interrupts her before she can voice a reply. 

“But anyway,” Ryuko says. “You’re not done opening presents.” She taps her hand against the other box in front of Satsuki, waiting excitedly for her to open it.

Satsuki obeys the command and unwraps the second present. The box inside is undecipherable, completely devoid of markings. She opens it at the top, and after pushing away packing peanuts, lifts from it a piece of intricately carved wood. She sets it on the coffee table. It’s a sword stand, made to hold two different sized blades along with their sheathes. There’s and engraving at the base of the stand, and it reads in neat characters, ‘ _Hiken Bakuzan’_. There are engravings one the two pieces of wood meant to support the actual blades, too. The one on the shorter piece reads, _‘Bakuzan Gako’_ , while the other reads, _‘Bakuzan Koryu’_.

“I-I know how much Bakuzan means to you,” Ryuko says when Satsuki doesn’t say anything right away. “And it’s a shame that you don’t have anywhere to put it up, really. So, yea, I thought this would be nice. If you don’t like it, I can send it back.” 

“Ryuko, it’s beautiful,” she tells her. She hadn’t been expecting anything in particular, but this gift is so thoughtful she hardly knows what else to say. She runs her fingers over the names etched into the wood before carefully spinning the piece around to view it from the other side. 

Then, she sits up straight to look at Ryuko again. Satsuki leans toward her, raises a hand against the side of her face and pulls her forward. Her lips make contact with her cheek and linger there, almost at the corner of her mouth, for several seconds. Ryuko thinks her heart has gone still, but when Satsuki pulls away it kick-starts back to life again, sending a rush of blood up to her face. She’s flushed to the tips of her ears.

“I think you earned it,” Satsuki tells her quietly, and the sound of her voice after the silence has Ryuko fighting off a shiver. She clears her throat harshly and sinks back into the couch.

“Glad you like it,” she says, trying to sound casual even while she hides her eyes behind her bangs.

Satsuki stands up then, and Ryuko watches without a word and she walk over to one of the closest in the hallway leading to the guest bedroom. They use it for storage, mostly, so she’s confused when she sees Satsuki digging through it. And even more so when she pulls out her guitar case – the one she had once used to store her scissor blade. 

“What’s that doing in there?” she asks, sitting up again in her curiosity. “I thought it was in the attic.”

“I wanted it to wrap your present with – if this counts as wrapping,” Satsuki explains. Ryuko now notices the big red bow stuck onto the front of it. “I was going to hide it in my room, but you go in there occasionally… The closet was a safer bet.”

She walks back over with the case and sets it onto the table, moving her own present onto the couch to make room for it. She then drops to the ground, feet tucked under her, looking at Ryuko expectantly.

“Go on, open it,” she tells her. 

Ryuko does as she’s told, and undoes the clasps at the side of the case before prying it open. The inside’s been refurbished. It cradles a guitar. 

“Holy shit,” Ryuko gasps when she sees it.

 _It’s a fucking Les Paul._ Deep red and absolutely gorgeous. 

“Oh my god, Sats,” she says, reaching forward to touch it, only to pull her hand away nervously. “Is this for real?”

“You like it?” 

“ _Like_ it?” Ryuko repeats. “This is like – a _crazy_ gift, you know?” She pauses, swallows thickly and finally manages to pull the guitar from the case. She rests it onto her lap and looks up at Satsuki before asking, “How did you even know I played?”

“You came to Honnouji with your scissor blade stuffed in a guitar case,” she says with an eye roll and a small smile. Then, her eyes fall to Ryuko’s hands cradling the instruments. “And I noticed your fingers… The tips are callused on your left hand.”

Ryuko turns her hand over and inspects her fingers, pushing the pad of her thumb over them. 

“I got an amplifier, too,” she tells her. “It’s in my closet upstairs. It wouldn’t fit down here.”

“A-Are you sure you wanna give this to me?” Ryuko asks. She’s still in mild disbelief. “Any old guitar would be fine – you don’t have to drop this much on me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Satsuki says. “In all honesty, I used some of Nonon’s connections to get a good deal on it, after I decided it was what I wanted to get you. She helped with the decision process, too… given she knows so much on the topic.” 

Ryuko puts the guitar carefully back into the case, tears her gaze away from it and then scoots down onto the floor with Satsuki. She hugs her tightly, wrapping her arms around her neck. When she pulls away, there’s a wide smile on her face. 

“Thanks,” she says, canines peeking out behind her lips. “I fucking love it – if you couldn’t already tell.”

“Good,” Satsuki laughs lightly. There’s unbridled fondness in the way she looks at Ryuko – maybe because it’s near three in the morning and she feels so tired she could collapse. “I don’t know about you, but this definitely takes the cake for my best Christmas so far.”

Ryuko agrees with a nod and an assenting hum.

“And it’s also the longest I’ve even been up on Christmas Eve,” she says, glancing at the clock on the wall. Just seeing the time makes her yawn, and the motion is contagious; Ryuko mirrors it with a yawn of her own.

She stands up again to shut the guitar case closed, and picks it up off the table by the handle. Satsuki, for her part, retrieves her own gifts before they head upstairs. 

“You better play for me,” she tells her once they’re in the hallway.

“Give me a little while to start practicing again,” Ryuko says. “Then I’ll play you anything you want.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope this chapter isn't too abrupt  
> warning for brief suicide mention towards the end

It’s the 28th of December, and Satsuki is sitting in on a music recital with Nonon. It’s an early afternoon showing, and she nearly missed it because she had completely forgotten about their rendezvous. Ryuko had been the one to remind her. 

“It won’t be long, and I’ll meet up with you guys after, if you want,” is what she had said.

The concert does feel long, though – not that Satsuki isn’t enjoying the music or her time with Nonon, but there are other things on her mind. Work things. More stress. Things she should be doing at this exact moment instead of sitting in on a concert. Social events to coordinate, meetings to plan, people to email, phone calls to make. Tomorrow will see a gathering of representatives at headquarters to report on one of the busiest sales seasons of the year for Revocs. And then there are obligatory business celebrations. 

She’s been working nonstop since Christmas. She can feel herself zoning out for the hundredth time halfway through the second movement of a piece by Kaija Saariaho. It’s all strings, sets a frantic pace to her thoughts, and she finds herself thumbing at the seam of her pants along her thigh.

She might not have come at all if Ryuko hadn’t insisted that it would be “healthier than working herself to death” another evening. It doesn’t make a difference, she thinks, because clearly there’s no shutting her brain off anyway. It’s a good thing, sometimes. Not for her body or her mind, but for the flashbacks that plague her. There’s a delicate balance she can strike wherein they won’t squeeze through the hubbub if she’s working hard enough. She just has to be careful not to let that balance tip. Grossly unmanaged stress makes the memories worse, much more vivid, for some reason.

The drowning sound of applause suddenly pulls her back down to earth. The soloist looks in a sweat. She can see how heavily he breathes even from their seats at the back of the auditorium. His brow reflects the stage lights in a moist glimmer as he takes a bow. The visual makes Satsuki feel tenser than she already is.

“What did you think?” Nonon asks her when they’re walking out the front steps of the old performance hall.

“It was good,” Satsuki says noncommittally. It earns her sound of vague affront from Nonon.

“It’s fine if you were spacing out, but ‘good’ isn’t much feedback.”

Satsuki sighs. “Forgive me for my lack of musical knowledge to hold up a proper conversation on the topic.” It’s needlessly sassy, and having sensed the high-strung energy around Satsuki today, Nonon doesn’t push it.

“I think I need sleep,” Satsuki then says to herself. “I thought I’d stop at the office again tonight, but I’ll just work from home.”

“You gotta have dinner with me first,” Nonon tells her with a smile. “And the ex-vagrant you spend so much time with – she’s coming too.”

“Is that right? You both coordinated this?”

“I guess. It was my idea.”

“And you just assumed I’d say yes?” Satsuki asks. Nonon thinks there’s an amused lilt in her voice. 

“I mean… I didn’t want to impose, but then Ryuko insisted.”

Satsuki makes a humming sound. She’s deciding whether or not to point out that Nonon just mentioned Ryuko by name for the first time in front of her.

“So if I go home…” she starts. “That would mean the two of you have a nice date lined up.”

“Like hell,” Nonon grumbles. She stops to pull her phone out from her pocket. No messages. She checks the time. “When and where are we supposed to meet her anyway?”

Satsuki peaks over Nonon’s shoulder to read the time as well. “Soon, actually. We should wait for her by the parking down the street.”

“Alright, let’s cross.”

The light’s just turned green.

Nonon steps out first and leads the way down the crosswalk. They’re more than halfway to the other side of the street when Satsuki realizes something is wrong. Or rather, that something is _about_ to go horribly wrong.

She pushes Nonon. She throws herself forward, shoves her in the back hard enough to send her stumbling a few feet. Out of harm’s way.

And still the truck speeds forward, too fast for the driver to stop it cleanly in its tracks.

Just one, two more steps—

It crashes into her side so hard it sends her off her feet. The world is loud and bright, nothing more than a blur until she falls harshly against the asphalt. She doesn’t register the pain yet. The pressure around her head tightens and blotches out her vision. Whites out everything.

 

From the other side of the intersection, Ryuko watches everything unfold in slow motion. And when she runs towards Satsuki’s still body on the ground, a familiar panic wrings at her insides. It hurts so much she has to will herself to remember how to breathe.

_Please, not you, too._

* * *

 

Bright lights. A low ceiling. The smell of sterile staleness in the air. A host of unfamiliar voices matched to foreign faces.

When Satsuki comes to, she immediately knows she’s in an ambulance. 

The pain around her chest and on her side is so suffocating she can hardly focus on the paramedics’ questions when they’re thrown her way.

“What’s your name?”

She answers that one. “Kiryuin Satsuki.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“Any pain when you breathe?”

“Can you feel when I touch you here?”

As she’s questioned, someone takes her pulse, checks her breathing, shines a light in her eyes. Her head starts to hurt and she thinks she can feel herself growing faint again.

“Stay with us, Ms. Kiryuin.” 

“Don’t shut your eyes.”

The order’s repeated over and over to her and she fights it off. The gurney she’s laying on rattles minutely as the ambulance speeds on. It’s where she holds her focus to keep herself afloat.

When they get to the hospital, she’s brought to the ER. They make her sit upright when she doesn’t feel like passing out anymore. The doctor assesses her. He’s in his late thirties, if she had to guess, with a serious face and a kind smile. He asks her some of the same questions she received on her way over in the ambulance. The pain at her arm and her side make it hard to focus, although the headache has subsided.

He moves on to the physical exam, asks her to raise her limbs and wiggle her fingers and walk around the room. The only problem area seems to be her right arm. She can’t even shift it without being met with a jolt of pain along its entire length. Forget about raising it above her head like he asks her to.

She inhales and exhales for him with the cold metal of the stethoscope pressed again her skin. There’s a sharp pain in her side when she takes deep breaths. She forces herself not to double over. It’s not the first time she’s been hurt like this; the pain feels familiar.

“I’m just going to open your shirt to check you ribs,” he tells her. He’s nothing but professional, but she still tenses when his fingers prod at the skin bellow her chest. Invasive. Invasive. Invasive. 

The thought cuts off when he hits the spot the pain stems from. She inhales sharply. He carries on methodically, and finally shifts her shirt off her right shoulder to see what’s underneath. He touches lightly at the swollen skin and she winces.

“We’re going to take you in for some x-rays, but it looks like you’ve fractured at least a rib. Your scapula may be fractured, too,” he says. She can handle that, she thinks. At least there’s nothing popping out her skin, no missing limbs, nothing to stitch up.

But the x-ray hurts like hell, and she almost bites through her lip when they lay her down against the table. The ribs aren’t so bad, but it’s her shoulder that’s unbearable. The pain grips every nerve in her arm and ripples across her back. She tries stubbornly not to let her discomfort show.

When the images come out, the doctor asks about the other fractures there, the ones that have healed over. There are far more than she would have thought. She doesn’t give a straightforward answer – something vague about another accident, and he doesn’t push it. 

They send her back to a room after that, with the results from the x-rays and a good dose of painkillers. The doctor’s initial assessment had been right; she has two fractured ribs and a fractured shoulder blade, both on her right side, along with a concussion. Apparently, that makes her lucky.

The nurse who put her arm in a sling is now helping her adjust into a comfortable sitting position on the bed.

“The people who were with you at the time of the crash are waiting to see you,” she tells her.

“People?” Satsuki asks blankly. _Wasn’t I only with Nonon? Unless Ryuko…._

“Yes, would you like me to send them in? They’ve been waiting a while…” She pauses, seems to be thinking on something. “The one girl – she said she was your sister – she was making such a fuss we didn’t let her see you sooner, in case it was going to agitate you.”

 _So Ryuko is here._ A feeling she can’t quite place forms in her chest. Relief and guilt mixed together at once.  

“Sounds like her,” she manages. “Please send them in.”

“Of course, Miss. And I’ll be back in just a minute." 

She disappears after that, and Ryuko and Nonon quickly fill her place when they come barging into the room.

“Satsuki,” the say in unison. Nonon pulls up next to her on a chair. Ryuko stands right behind her.

“How are you feeling? They wouldn’t let us in,” Ryuko tells Satsuki. Her voice is aggravated but Satsuki can clearly pick out the worry in her eyes.

“It’s just broken bones? How long are you going to have to stay here?”

Satsuki is flattered by the attention, but she doesn’t know how many times she can play twenty questions in one day.

“Just a few fractures, nothing serious,” she assures them. “They gave me painkillers, so it’s not too bad. I’m just tired.”

“And how long are they gonna keep you?” Ryuko repeats Nonon’s question. 

“I should be out today. Soon, I hope.”

“Well, what’re we waiting on?”

“The nurse. I already got prescriptions for painkillers, and they had me fill out some papers.” 

Satsuki leans her head back, but stops the motion halfway when it puts more pressure on her shoulder. Ryuko comes up to sit on the armrest of Nonon’s chair, and places her hands against the mattress, right beside Satsuki’s. If she was going to reach for it, she stops herself.

“Maybe I should head out,” Nonon says after a second. “I just wanted to make sure you were ok… but you probably want rest right now.” 

Satsuki smiles at her. “Thank you, Nonon.” 

She lifts herself off the chair and stands on the tips of her toes to place a kiss over Satsuki’s hair. 

“I’ll call you in a couple days,” Satsuki tells her.

“Don’t sweat it if you need to rest up.” Nonon then turns to look at Ryuko. “Try to be less of a handful than you usually are.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Ryuko says, grabbing her by the collar to pull her away from the bed. Her hand is promptly slapped away.

Nonon leaves the room with a final glance in Satsuki’s direction, and then they’re alone together. There’s a pregnant silence hanging between them. Ryuko takes a seat where Nonon was, and scoots the chair closer to the bed.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” Satsuki says eventually.

“You got hit by a truck. Why are you apologizing?” 

Satsuki bites her tongue to keep herself from apologizing again. Ryuko takes her good hand in her own. She holds it like that for a little while, until a soft knock to the door lets them know the nurse has returned.

“Ms. Kiryuin, how’s your head?” she asks her.

“Fine, I think.”

“Still no dizziness?” 

Satsuki shakes her head.

“Now, if you’ll stand up for me,” the nurse says, reaching to help turn her body so her legs are hanging off the side of the bed. Satsuki is on her feet relatively easily, and when the nurse asks her to, she walks to one end of the room and back before taking a seat again. 

“Coordination is still fine,” she notes. “The doctor says you’re fine for release if your headache’s gone, so it looks like you’re all set.” 

“Thank god,” Satsuki says. It escapes her before she thinks to keep it to herself. The nurse gives her a soft smile.

“So what’s the treatment for this, then?” Ryuko asks. “Anything specific to do?”

“Yes, we went over it back when the x-ray came out, but it won’t hurt to list them again,” the nurse says. She clears her throat before going on, reciting instructions like she’s reading them from a list. “Keep the arm immobilized for 4 weeks, at which point the pain should have subsided. Until then, only take pain medication as prescribed. If you feel discomfort in your shoulder, apply ice for up to twenty minutes at a time. That should help with swelling, too. Oh, and don’t apply the ice directly onto your skin… Only take the sling off when you’re showering. Don’t move the arm to wash yourself, and leave it hanging by your side.”

She pauses, like she’s trying to recall what else she might have to mention. 

“Does she have to leave it on to sleep?” Ryuko asks.

“Yes,” Satsuki answers for her.

“That’s right,” the nurse says. “It’ll be easier to sleep more or less in a sitting position for the first couple of weeks. Lying, even on your side, is probably going to hurt for a while.” 

“And after four weeks, it comes off?” Ryuko asks. 

“You’ll have to check in to see how the shoulder’s doing… But after four weeks, you won’t have to wear the sling all the time if the recovery goes well. You’ll most likely keep wearing it for the majority of the time until the 6 week mark, though. Full recovery isn’t expected until 8 weeks.”

“Damn, that’s a good while,” Ryuko says.

“You live together?” the nurse asks them. Ryuko and Satsuki nod.

“Great,” she says. “Having someone else around will make you life a lot easier. Oh, and you obviously can’t drive.” 

“How long before working is ok?” Ryuko asks. 

Satsuki grits her teeth. “Ryuko, we already went over most of this.” 

“Well, I want to know.” 

“She won’t be able to use her right hand at all for a month, and we recommend rest for the first few days, at least,” the nurse answers. “That means limited reading, limited use of computers, more sleep. Light exercise and sexual activity should be alright after two weeks, if it doesn’t involve or strain your arm. But until your full recovery, no playing sports and no lifting heavy objects. And even after you’ve healed, you shouldn’t participate in contact sports for a little while.”

“Thank you,” Satsuki says. She only wants to get home at this point. She doesn’t want to think about all the things she won’t be able to do for the next two months. 

“What else, what else,” the nurse murmurs to herself. “Oh, some tips on getting dressed since we didn’t cover it. Sweatpants and button-down shirts are your best friends. For the shirts, just take off the sling and start by slipping your broken arm through its sleeve. The rest should be intuitive. And you might want to forget about wearing a bra for a while.”

She pauses, eyes fixed on the ceiling as she digs through her memory. “I think that pretty much covers everything.”

“You’ve been a great help, thank you,” Satsuki says. Ryuko can hear the impatience in her voice.

“Of course,” the nurse replies. “If you’re all set for questions, I’ll get out of your hair so you can check out.”

“Yep, I think we’re good,” Ryuko tells her. 

The nurse leaves them with a smile and a nod, and wishes Satsuki a good recovery. When they’re alone in the room again, Ryuko makes to help her sister onto her feet, and Satsuki tries to hide her wounded pride when she braces herself against her.

* * *

 

“You drove my car here?” Satsuki asks when they get to the parking lot.

“I didn’t think you’d want to ride out of here on my motorcycle,” Ryuko tells her. “Though if you want, I can drive back and get it while you wait here.”

Satsuki rolls her eyes. “I’m just surprised you left that thing in the middle of the city.”

“I had other things on my mind, to be honest.” The look she gives her is heavy, and Satsuki looks away as she reaches to open the door on the passenger side. 

“You need help getting in?” Ryuko asks her. 

“I’m fine,” she rejects the offer quickly. She has to lower herself perpendicular to the seat, and uses her left arm to hold the frame of the car.

Ryuko gets into the driver’s side when she’s sure Satsuki won’t need help, straps herself in and starts the ignition. A pained hiss suddenly draws her attention back to her sister.

“What’s wrong?”

Satsuki is holding onto the seatbelt with her left hand, trying not to twist uncomfortably. But her mobility isn’t great. Ryuko quickly undoes her own belt and leans over to help with hers. Satsuki lets her, but not without a frustrated sigh.

“This is going to be a long two months,” she says. She values her independence so much that she doesn’t know how she’s going to get used to this. 

“You’ll make it through,” Ryuko tells her. She opens her mouth to say something else, but quickly shuts it to lean back into her seat again. She doesn’t put her seatbelt back on, or make any move to pull the car out of its parking space. 

“What’s wrong? Forget how to drive a car?” Satsuki jokes.

Ryuko decisively looks in the other direction when she answers, and her tone lets Satsuki know she’s not taking things lightly. “No, I just—”

She cuts herself off, takes a deep breath.

“Why didn’t you move out of the way, Sats?” she asks quickly. 

“What?”

“When the truck came at you. Why didn’t you move out of the way?” 

Satsuki stares blankly for a few seconds.

“I-I don’t understand the question.”

“Don’t give me that,” Ryuko says. The volume of her voice rises, and she grips the bottom of the steering wheel tightly in her right hand. “I’ve seen you fight before. You’ve been able to dodge my attacks, even when I was synchronized with Senketsu!”

She stops suddenly when she mentions his same, swallows harshly. She still has a hard time talking about him, and the context of an accident that could have been Satsuki’s death doesn’t exactly help to ground her.

“You had time to move away,” she continues. “But you just pushed Nonon and then… kind of stood there.” 

It’s quiet for a few seconds, during which Satsuki can hear her own heartbeat and Ryuko’s breathing. It’s slightly more labored that usual.

“I… I didn’t know you saw the accident,” she says eventually.

“Yea, I saw it,” Ryuko tells her. She finally turns to look her in the eye. “Now answer my question, Sats.” 

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Ryuko. I just didn’t have time to react. You know I’ve been… tired, lately. My reflexes just weren’t there.”

Ryuko makes a sound that Satsuki interprets as disbelief. It makes anger and anxiety roil in her stomach.

“What, you don’t believe me?” 

“Just tell me you didn’t choose to let that truck it you!” Ryuko bursts out.

“What—is this why you were so quiet around me in the hospital room? You think… You think I’m, what? Suicidal?” 

“Well you sure didn’t look like someone trying not to die.”

“You’re not in my head, you can’t know what I was thinking!” Satsuki says defensively. “If you want to ask me something like that, just come out and ask it. And don’t treat me like a liar when I give you an answer. It’s like you’re… accusing me of something I didn’t do.”

Ryuko is about to shout something back, but she visibly restrains herself. She bites her lip, hard enough to hurt, and brings her head down to rest against the top of the steering wheel. When she takes a deep breath, it comes out shaky. 

“I’m sorry,” she says. Then, she sits up again, runs her hands through her hair and fists at it before letting go. “I believe you. I don’t know, I just saw that happen and— and I…” 

She stops talking and Satsuki wants to touch her, wishes her right arm would let her reach out to place a hand on her shoulder.

“Ryuko,” she says instead. Ryuko keeps her head bent down, so Satsuki repeats her name until she looks up at her.

“Have you ever know Kiryuin Satsuki to give up a fight?” she asks her. Ryuko shakes her head, and Satsuki gives her a soft smile. “I won’t leave you, Imouto.”

“Good, I’m holding you to that,” Ryuko says, reining in her emotions. She looks away again, sets the car into reverse and backs carefully out of their spot, because she needs something to do right now.

“Can I turn on the radio?” she asks when they’re on the road. 

“Sure. Not too loud, though.”

Ryuko turns it on and goes through a couple stations before finding one she likes. She’s settled down again after Satsuki’s reassurances. But now she suddenly feels selfish, like she should have been the one to provide reassurances after the crash, not the other way around.

“Y’know what this means?” Ryuko asks, her tone lighter, trying to shift to a normal conversation topic. 

“What?” 

“I’m gonna get to have you sit through so many movies with me,” she says happily. “Because you won’t be working and stuff.” There’s a self-satisfied smile on her face.

“Fine, but no horror movies,” Satsuki tells her. “You always end up clinging to me, and I don’t think my shoulder’s up for that.”

“Oh, whatever, I don’t even cling that hard,” Ryuko says. 

Satsuki teases her a few more times on their way back home, and Ryuko plays along. They joke, and it helps heal away the worry that’s been gnawing at her belly since she saw the crash. It seems almost surreal, having Satsuki sitting next to her, talking as though nothing’s happened. Ryuko wasn’t just scared when she saw what happened – she was downright terrified.

And even though they don’t talk about the accident for the rest of the day, a distinct aching sensation tugs at Ryuko’s chest whenever she sees Satsuki seize up at the pain, whenever she winces or gasps despite trying her best to hide it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sometimes I mean for things to progress more quickly than they actually do... but these two seem to have minds of their own when I'm writing

The morning following the accident, Satsuki gives up any pretense of being unperturbed by her shoulder. She gets out of bed by herself, puts her bathrobe on with some difficulty, and by the time she makes it downstairs, Ryuko’s already up. There’s tea brewing for her in a kettle on the stove.

“Thanks, you didn’t have to,” she says as she pours herself a cup. 

Ryuko shrugs. “It’s fine. Don’t have much else to do anyway.”

The semester’s over for her, and she won’t be back in class again for another couple of weeks. She’s happy with her winter semester’s lighter load – it means she’ll get to spend more time with Satsuki during her recovery.

“How are you feeling?” Ryuko asks. 

“Honestly, pretty terrible.”

“You wanna take some of the meds they prescribed?”

“Already did,” Satsuki says shortly. “Right when I woke up.”

Ryuko takes a second to examine Satsuki, and realizes that she didn’t even bother slipping her right arm through her bathrobe. It hides away behind the front of it, tucked close to her body in its brace, while the empty sleeve hangs limply by her side. She somehow managed to tie it at the front – no doubt with a great deal of effort. Her hair’s a bit out of place. An image of what her sister might have looked like as a child pops into Ryuko’s head.

“You hungry?” she asks her.

Satsuki shakes her head and says, “No, I’ll eat in a bit… I feel gross right now. I need a shower before I do anything else.”

“I haven’t eaten yet,” Ryuko tells her. “I can make breakfast while you’re in the shower, if you want.”

“That’d be great.”

She almost reaches for her teacup sitting on the counter with her right arm, but the pain and the sling restricting her movement remind her of her injury.

“Actually…” she says. “You might want to go ahead and eat without me. It takes just about an eternity to get anything done with only one arm.”

Ryuko wonders, then, how long she had been awake before having been able to get out of bed and put on the bathrobe she’s wearing. A thought pops into her head, and she agonizes a minute over weather or not she should vocalize it. _Right now, her comfort is more important than mine,_ she thinks.

“I-If you think it’ll be easier for you,” she starts off, “I can help you, you know.”

Satsuki thankfully understands what she’s trying to say, so Ryuko doesn’t have to elaborate.

“No,” she replies decisively. “I can manage. Thanks for the offer, though.” She doesn’t have to give it a second’s thought. Even if it takes twice the time on her own – No, Ryuko helping in the shower is absolutely out of the question. 

Ryuko, for her part, is relieved at the rejection. She doesn’t know what she would have done if Satsuki had said yes. She wonders why she even suggested it in the first place, because now she realizes there’s no way she could have handled it.

Satsuki excuses herself after that, and heads straight for the bathroom upstairs. She shifts the robe over her injured shoulder and lets it drop off her left side before hooking it carefully over the back of the door. The sling comes off next. She hasn’t removed it since her release from the hospital. Once it’s off, her arm hangs uselessly by her side, and she tries to keep it relaxed to alleviate the pain.

Turning on the water and stepping into the shower – those are the easy parts. She stands there under the showerhead for a few instants, enjoying the feeling of water running against her skin and through her hair before tackling what she knows will be the frustrating task of washing herself.

She starts with body soap. With a little bit of problem solving, she realizes the easiest thing to do is just squeeze it out onto herself and work from there. It’s about the least thorough job she’s ever done, but it’s the best she can do. She stops to rinse off when her movements start to strain against her side.

The shampoo, she pours right onto her head, and tries to work it through with one hand. Raising even her good arm up high stretches her torso, and her ribs immediately start to ache. She makes quick work of her scalp, and once she’s satisfied, moves lower to try to cover as much of her hair as possible. _Maybe I should cut it again,_ she thinks. It would make her life a whole lot easier over the next couple of months.

Rinsing off isn’t too much of a problem. She stands under the showerhead for a long while and occasionally reaches up to make sure the shampoo is coming out. When she’s done, she tries to wring her hair out with one hand, and then towels at herself until she’s dry enough to place her arm in the sling again. It hurts more than when she started, and her back has started to ache at how tense she’s become.

She finally slips into her bathrobe again – doesn’t bother properly closing it for her journey across the hallway – and walks out to her room. It’s promptly discarded over the back of a chair.

What did the nurse say? Sweatpants and button up shirts. She has plenty of the latter. 

Satsuki shifts onto her knees to dig one-handedly through one of the bottommost draws of her dresser until she pulls out a pair of sweatpants – the same ones she spilled paint over in this very room a few months ago. She can tell because they’re slightly discolored in places.

She takes a seat on the bed and begins the tiresome process of dressing herself. Once she gets her feet through the legs of the pants, they’re relatively easy to pull the rest of the way up so long as she remembers not to bend over too much on her broken ribs.

 _This is nothing. How many ribs did Ragyo break?_ She’s certain it was more than two, especially after having seen her x-rays from the hospital. She has to shake away the memory when it suddenly makes her stomach seize up.

Her closet is filled with lots of hanging shirts, skirts, and a few dresses. She picks out one of her more comfortable blouses. It’s soft and loose and its buttons aren’t too small. A sigh escapes her when she realizes she shouldn’t have put the sling back on so soon. It comes off again, and then she slips her injured arm through the shirtsleeve. Getting it all the way up to her shoulder is a painstaking operation, and maneuvering the fabric around to the other side of her body even more so. But she smiles at the small victory when both arms poke through their respective sleeves.

Her celebration is perhaps premature, because doing up the buttons with her left hand is a nightmare. She runs her fingers along the stitching to find the buttonholes, and then pulls them over to slip the buttons through. They slip through her fingers, get stuck halfway through only to pop back out again. When she loses her grip, she has to start all over again. It strains her hand and before long she can feel her muscles beginning to cramp up. 

The exertion actually has her panting. The frustration has her body tensed up and she can feel it affecting the pain in her shoulder – like a steady pressure there that just keeps on building. She takes a second to relax again. And when she sets back at it, she realizes that maybe the fabric of this particular blouse is too slippery. 

Just the thought of having to pull it off, getting another out of her closet, and repeating the process all over again sends phantom pains through her side. Before she can agonize on it further, a knock sounds at the door. 

“Sats, are you alright?” Ryuko calls from the other side. She wonders how long it’s been since she disappeared upstairs.

 _I’m about ready to smash modesty right out the window_ , Satsuki thinks. She stands up off her bed, readjusting the open ends of her shirt to cover herself as best as possible. When she reaches the door, she swings it open to find Ryuko standing there, arm raised as though she were about to knock.

“I can’t seem to manage the buttons on my shirt,” she explains quickly. “And my patience is running out.”

She receives a toothy smile along with a soft laugh. “I was starting to get worried.”

“I told you not to wait for me.” 

Satsuki shifts her hand away from where she’s holding her blouse together, and Ryuko can’t help but follow the motion with her eyes.

“Y-You want me to help?” she asks dumbly.

“If it’s not too burdensome a favor.” Satsuki smiles, and Ryuko isn’t sure if it’s at her expense, or if it’s because she’s embarrassed about asking for help. Scratch that – Kiryuin Satsuki is hardly ever embarrassed about anything. 

“Yea, ‘course,” Ryuko says quickly. She hopes it sounds confident, because the way she brings her hands up to the topmost button of Satsuki’s shirt is not.

“Skip the first one.”

“Right.” Ryuko looks anywhere but to Satsuki’s eyes as she moves her hands a couple inches lower. She tries to focus solely on her own fingers and the buttons she holds between them.

But it’s distracting – the smooth skin between her breasts, the gentle slope of the fabric against her chest. Satsuki is absolutely still but for the minute movements guided by her breathing. Ryuko avoids touching her, like she might catch fire if she does. Her hands grow shakier as she makes her way down.  

A button slips from her grip, and when she reaches hastily to claim it again, her fingers brush against Satsuki’s stomach. The muscles there tense involuntarily at the touch. Ryuko almost drops the damn button again. 

“How long was I in the shower that you had to come looking for me?” Satsuki asks to interrupt the silence.

Ryuko automatically glances up to find she’s looking off to the side. It takes her a second to register the question. “Not that long, don’t worry.” 

“Did you eat?”

“Nah, figured I could wait,” she answers, doing up the very last button of Satsuki’s shirt.

When she pulls away, Satsuki tugs at the bottom of the blouse to shift it properly into place. Their eyes meet, and Ryuko thinks the smile she receives might be vaguely apologetic. “Thank you.” 

“You need help with the sling?” 

“Might as well,” she sighs. She shoots a murderous glance towards her bed, where she threw it off earlier. Ryuko gets it for her, and together they bring up her arm and slip the strap over her neck.

“I hate this thing already,” Satsuki tells her.  

Ryuko smiles. “Six to eight weeks and we can burn it.”

* * *

 

New Year’s comes and goes, as does the first week of Satsuki’s recovery. She checks back into the hospital, at they tell her that her shoulder is healing nicely, but that she still needs to keep the sling on at all times. She starts to get over not being able to do things around the house – becomes used to Ryuko wordlessly carrying out actions for her before she even has to ask. Showering and getting dressed become less of a hassle as she gets used to using her left hand.

The loss of autonomy would be leaps and bounds more frustrating if she were living with anyone but Ryuko. She finds herself much more aggravated over not being properly able to oversee Revocs. Hours are spent on the phone with Hououmaru, who thankfully has organization skills even Satsuki’s impressed with, and she holds obligatory conference calls as well. 

Her levels of stress are nonetheless lower than usual, but her flashbacks get much worse – and because she gets such poor sleep, she wakes frequently at night from nightmares. It’s not unrelated to the injury. Even though the rational part of her knows she’s safe, alone in her home with Ryuko, another part is frightened at how vulnerable heaving a useless arm leaves her. She’s practically defenseless, and that seems to invite memories of her mother into her head. 

 

It’s mid-January, just over two weeks into healing, and Satsuki is standing in the study on the first floor. The pain meds have kicked in from when she took them a few hours ago, and she refuses to let them bring her to sleep because of the nightmares she knows she’ll find. She organizes her space instead, tucks away files as she runs through a list of things she needs to do over the next few days for the company. Ryuko should be home any minute, but this keeps her busy in the meantime. Thinking about Revocs’ increasing success over the past year puts her in a more optimistic mood. Revenue is up from last month, relations with affiliate industries are strong and growing stronger—

It’s as she’s thinking these things that the power suddenly cuts out. The lights flicker out and she looses the words she had been reading a moment ago. The sun’s long set, so she’s left in complete darkness. She waits a minute for her eyes to adjust, then sets down the papers in her hand against her desk before stepping around it towards the door. She doesn’t have time to reach it before she hears someone coming in through the front door, letting light stream into the main room. 

“Oi, Satsuki!” Ryuko shouts as she shuts the door behind her. She drops her bag on the floor and reaches into her back pocket to take out her phone. The screen lights up her face in the darkness. 

“I’m here, you don’t need to shout,” she tells her, having made her way into the living room now.

Ryuko startles at her voice. “Jesus, make some noise when you walk, will you?”

She turns on the flashlight on her phone, shines it down against the floor.

“A storm is startin up. The power just went out, I saw the whole block go dark when I was riding through,” Ryuko tells her. 

“Really? I failed to notice.”

“Oh, save it,” she grumbles. “Do we have flashlights around?”

“No, but the generator should kick in any second.” 

“The generator….” Ryuko suddenly stops walking towards her, like she’s just realized something. She looks like a child who’s about to receive a scolding.

“Ryuko,” Satsuki says. She hopes it isn’t what she thinks. “Tell me you didn’t forget.”

“…And, if I kinda did?”

Satsuki sighs. 

“Hey, I’ve been distracted lately!” Ryuko says in her defense. “I know I said I’d call to get it fixed, but classes just started up, and there was all the shit to take care of with the hospital—”

“It’s fine, we have candles somewhere,” Satsuki tells her. She only sounds mildly exasperated.

“Are you mad?”

“No, it’s not a big deal.” It’s true, too, she doesn’t really mind. Except— “I just hope it doesn’t get too cold overnight, especially if there’s a storm.”

“You know, this could actually be fun,” Ryuko says after a minute. Satsuki sees her eyes light up in the glow of the flashlight reflected off the walls. “We can light candles, watch a movie…”

Satsuki can’t help but smile a little. “For that we’ll have to find the candles first. Follow me.”

Ryuko trails behind her as they walk through the house in search of candles. She does most of the actual searching, what with her sister’s broken shoulder. They eventually emerge victorious from the attic with half a boxful of an unusual assortment – some old and half broken, others in glass jars – which they bring downstairs with them to the living room.

“We have to have a lighter somewhere,” Satsuki thinks aloud, making her way into the kitchen to search some drawers. She can hardly see anything by the distant light of Ryuko’s phone.

“Wait, I have one in my bag,” Ryuko tells her. 

Satsuki stops what she’s doing, and turns back out to where Ryuko is crouched by her bag on the floor, rifling through one of the front pockets.

“Got it!” Ryuko says, holding it up for Satsuki to see.

“You carry a lighter in your backpack.” It comes out somewhere between a question and an observation. 

Ryuko answers quickly, “W-Well, it’s one of those things that’s always good to have on hand, y’know?”

Satsuki steps forward, wraps her hand over Ryuko’s to take the lighter from her. She comes up close in the process, close enough to be well into her personal space. Ryuko backs up a step after a second. The look on Satsuki’s face dares her to break eye contact. _Does she smoke? I would have noticed, though_ , Satsuki thinks. 

She doesn’t quite know what she was expecting – to suddenly catch a whiff of tobacco on Ryuko’s clothes at the proximity. But they’ve been this close before, they live and sleep under the same roof, so there’s no way something like that would have escaped her attention. She doesn’t know why the lighter suddenly has her so curious. 

“What?” Ryuko says after a bit. The light shinning from her phone is enough to notice she’s become flustered.

“Nothing.” Satsuki pulls away, taking the lighter with her. “I’d like to light them.” 

She takes a candle on a holder from the box, sets it down against the table, thumbs at the lighter, and brings the flame up to meet the wick. It burns to life a sets a small glow in the room. She repeats the process for a few more candles, and gestures for Ryuko to grab some of them.

“Let’s camp out upstairs,” Satsuki says.

“Ah – wait, I wanna bring up some ice cream.” 

“You’re going to be freezing.”

“It’ll melt if the freezer’s not working!” 

Satsuki gives her a look. It’s close to zero degrees out, and the house is already colder than it was just an hour ago. 

“Just take a candle, I’ll meet you upstairs,” Ryuko tells her as she walks into the kitchen.

“You’re not bringing ice cream into my room.” 

“Then we’ll just go to my room. Everyone’s happy.” 

Satsuki’s frown apparently suggests otherwise. But she doesn’t say anything, barely holds back a disproving grunt, and heads towards the stairs with a single candle in hand.

She realizes, once she’s pushing the door open, that she’s hardly ever spent any length of time in Ryuko’s room before. There was the time they painted it together – a deep red appropriate to her aesthetic – and then when they moved in. Other than that, she’s walked just through the threshold some mornings to wake her up if she was still asleep. 

The bed’s unmade, and even though the room is messy, it’s kept relatively clean. Satsuki stands there an instant, not knowing where to place herself. Ryuko’s desk sits in the far corner of the room, covered by paper and clothes and objects without a proper home. She does most of her work in the living room, or on her bed, anyway. The guitar she got her for Christmas sits on a stand next to a big armchair, upon which lie Ryuko’s DS, a set of headphones, and a couple issues of _Jump_. It’s the neatest corner of the room.

Satsuki decides to move onto her bed after her cursory look-over. Ryuko comes in shortly after she’s settled herself onto one of the corners at the foot of the bed. She’s holding the tub of ice cream under her arm, and one candle in each hand. There’s a spoon hanging out of her mouth, and she has her backpack on. She lets everything drop onto her bedside table, being careful only with the candles, and slips her arms out of the straps to let her bag slide to the floor.

“It should be charged enough to watch a movie,” Ryuko says as she digs her laptop out of her bag. She throws it onto the bed next to Satsuki before joining her.

“What are we watching?” 

Ryuko clicks through a few folders and shifts the screen towards Satsuki. There’s a list of torrented movies there. “You pick.”

“No, you always have me choose, so it’s your turn.”

“I like all of ‘em so just pick one you like.” 

Satsuki gives her a look. “If you don’t put something on, I’m grabbing a book and reading the rest of the night.” 

“Alright, alright….” Ryuko grumbles. She scrolls indecisively through the titles before finally settling on the second volume of Kill Bill – she had made Satsuki sit through the first a while back, and was met with positive review. Swords and vengeance and kick-ass ladies are all unsurprisingly up her alley.

About one quarter of the way through the movie, Ryuko’s already finished the ice cream, and by the time they hit the halfway mark, she realizes having something so cold might have been a mistake after all.

“Oi, I’m gonna change into something else but keep watchin,” she instructs before hoping off the bed. She goes through the clothes in her drawers – thrown in by the pile and anything but folded – until she finds a warm pair of pajama bottoms and a clean sweater. 

“Are you cold?” Satsuki asks her after she’s changed and sat back down.

“I’m good now. Watch the movie.”

The movie is suddenly paused as Satsuki turns to her. “You’re all tense. Don’t tell me you’re not cold.” 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she insists. “C’mon and play it, we’re gonna get to the climax.”

“No, the movie can wait.” 

She makes to stand up, carefully because of her injured arm. Even though Ryuko wants her to stay, she instinctively moves to support her. It’s become almost second nature, these last couple of weeks.

“Where are you going? Just sit down,” Ryuko says.

“Give me a minute.”

Satsuki disappears out of the room after that, and Ryuko restrains herself from following, flops down onto her bed and burrows into the covers to keep warm. She hears movement from her sister’s room, drawers opening and closing again. After several minutes, Satsuki returns with a couple of blankets under her good arm and a determined gleam in her eye.

“Satsuki, I told you I’m fine,” she groans, turning her head away from her.

“Sit up,” Satsuki commands. Ryuko does as she’s told with perhaps a bit more dramatic flare than necessary.

Satsuki steps up onto the bed and unfurls one of the blankets and drapes it around Ryuko as best she can with one arm. She helps bring the ends together in front of her, and then repeats the process with the second blanket. When she’s satisfied with the whole wrapping process, she sits back to look Ryuko in the eye.

“You look quite safe, Imouto,” she tells her. Ryuko looks annoyed, and Satsuki is sure it’s for show, because her cheeks have turned a soft pink at the attention. “Warm enough?”

“Yea,” she says into the blankets as she tucks her chin down.

“You’ve been taking good care of me since the accident, so I can’t turn away an opportunity to return the favor.”

She only makes a grunting sound in response. It seems to satisfy Satsuki, because she reassumes her previous spot beside her and plays the movie again. And for the rest of the film, Ryuko doesn’t dare move an inch from the little cocoon her sister built around her.

 

Satsuki stays for a good while afterwards, sitting on the bed reading a book while Ryuko plays video games. When she starts to get tired, she finally excuses herself and leaves for her own room.

She changes into a nightshirt – also a button up, because putting on a regular shirt would still strain her arm too much. She’s proud of the fact that she can now fasten all the buttons by herself. She can even sleep without much pain, and often lies on her uninjured side throughout the night. 

But it’s still hard to fall asleep. This night in particular is a bit disquieting, what with the sound of wind picking up outside, and the glow of the sole candle by her bedside before she blows it out. It’s cold, too. All the trapped up heat from earlier in the day seems to have been sucked away.

She remains in a state of half-sleep for a long while, probably the better part of a few hours. And when she finds herself woken up halfway through the night, it’s not at the hands of her usual nightmares, but by Ryuko’s voice.

“Sats,” she whispers softly, testing out the volume of her voice in the silence.

Satsuki hums but doesn’t sit up. It takes too much effort to do so.

“Were you awake?”

“I wasn’t really sleeping,” Satsuki admits. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s fucking cold and I can’t sleep,” she says. Satsuki sees now that her arms are folded over her chest and her shoulders are hoisted up tensely close to her neck.

“Well there’s not much to do about that.”

“Let me steal one of your blankets again,” Ryuko says. They’re laid out over Satsuki’s bed, and even though she wants Ryuko warm, the thought of giving one up has her dreading being any colder. 

“Grab the one off the couch downstairs,” she tells her.

“I already did.” 

A moment of silence drags by, and they both sit in it until Satsuki speaks again. 

“Bring the blanket you have in your room,” she says. “We can just pool our resources.”

She can’t see Ryuko’s face clearly in the dark, but after a second she walks back out of the room without another word. She returns with the blanket they usually keep in the living room, and drapes it over the ones already piled on the comforter. Satsuki scoots slowly to the far side of the bed to make room for her. Ryuko nestles in and savors the warmth left over the spot where Satsuki was previously laying. A contented sigh escapes her.

“Better?” Satsuki asks.

Ryuko nods her head into the pillow. It smells like her, and that alone warms her up a bit.

“Turn around,” Satsuki says. Ryuko shifts to meet her eyes – or rather, the general area she assumes them to be at – before doing as she’s told and facing away from her. “Now come closer.”

“Oi, shouldn’t I be on the outside?” Ryuko asks, but still scoots back until she hits Satsuki. “You arm’s in the middle.”

“You’ll be warmer this way.” 

Ryuko makes a vague sound in acceptance. Satsuki wishes her shoulder wasn’t broken, so that she could use her arm to hold her closer.

“How’s sleeping been? With your arm, I mean,” Ryuko says as she plumps the pillow under her head to make herself comfortable. 

“Not ideal, but markedly more bearable than before.”

“Let me know if I hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Satsuki assures her. “But I will if you do.” 

“Did you take painkillers today?” she asks.

“In the morning and again before going to bed.”

“That’s less than last week.”

Satsuki hums and shifts closer despite her arm wedged between them. “You don’t need to worry.”

That quiets her for a good couple of minutes, and Satsuki focuses on the rhythm of her breathing. Eventually, Ryuko’s voice softly breaks through the silence.

“I got really scared, when it happened,” she says, so quietly the confession is almost lost in the space between them. 

“I know,” Satsuki says. 

She doesn’t know what else to say, and curses her injury a million times over for not letting her arm move forward to touch her. She inches her head forward instead, buries her face into Ryuko’s hair until her nose bumps up against the back of her neck. 

“I would have been scared, too,” she tells her. Her breath ghosts over her nape, and Ryuko stiffens the slightest bit when she pictures how close Satsuki’s lips must be to touching her skin.

She doesn’t say anything when she continues to nuzzle her there, as she gets confortable in her closer position. Ryuko doesn’t quite manage to stop herself from squirming, though.

Satsuki must take it to be a shiver, because she asks, “Are you still cold?”

“Y-Yea, a little,” Ryuko says. It’s not exactly a lie. 

Satsuki inches her legs forward and twines them around Ryuko’s until they’re effectively wrapped around each other.

“Your feet are freezing,” she comments. “Does this help a bit?”

Ryuko only nods. She wants the conversation to stop, because the feeling of Satsuki’s whispering against her nape might as well be torture. She wonders if maybe she’s doing it on purpose, if she knows exactly how it affects her – 

Knows that when she does this, Ryuko can only think of Satsuki kissing and nipping at her neck. Imagines what Satsuki’s hands would feel like at her waist, her hips, then lower still. But she doesn’t know Satsuki’s touch – not that way. So instead she finds herself digging up memories to fill the gaps. She remembers the feeling of Satsuki running her fingers against her head, tugging at her hair.

Her heart has just about doubled its usual pace, and every inch of her skin feels sensitive, unmistakably aroused. Satsuki stills, though, and her breathing starts to even as she relaxes behind her. Ryuko takes a breath to try to clear her head, and isn’t left without a sinking feeling of shame and disappointment in her stomach. It helps dispel her momentary fantasy.

If Satsuki notices any change in her whatsoever, she makes no comment. Ryuko doubts it, since she quickly falls asleep without hardly moving an inch away.

 

When Satsuki is startled out of sleep a few hours later by her own nightmares, the presence of another body in her bed sends into further disorientation. She struggles to place herself in the world again until she realizes it’s Ryuko – it’s the semi-snoring that tips her off – and suddenly memories of the night before coalesce. 

Her shoulder hurts terribly as she forces herself upright. The pain makes her head spin, overriding the bad memories for a second. 

She immediately gets the feeling that she needs to be alone, and certainly doesn’t want to wake up Ryuko only to have to explain a nightmare. She shifts the mass of blankets off her, realizes she’s in a sweat, and tears a couple of them off the bed once she’s standing up. They fall to the floor without her much caring. Ryuko sleeps on unperturbed, one foot dangling off to the side, mouth hanging open, and one hand tucked up the front of her shirt to rest over her belly.

Satsuki pads softly through the hallway and down the stairs. She’s used to moving about a house without going noticed. And when she reaches the kitchen, she pulls out a glass from the cupboard, fills it with water, and stands there until she’s calmed down again.

She gets back to her room and sits the glass at her bedside. She isn’t surprised when Ryuko speaks, because her breathing has changed from its usual sleeping rhythm.

“You alright?” she asks. Her voice is groggy with sleep.

“Yes, I just wanted some water.”

There’s a pause before Ryuko finally says, “I can leave if you want me to.”

She’d have to be an idiot not to put two and two together, not to know what actually pulled Satsuki out of bed. Satsuki realizes that only now. 

“No, you’re fine,” she tells her.

She moves the sheets aside with her left arm and sits down on the mattress with her back propped up by a pillow against the headboard.

“You’re not going to sleep?” Ryuko asks.

“I will eventually.” The clock reads half past three in the morning. She could still get some rest in. “Go back to sleep.” 

Ryuko doesn’t need to be told twice. She turns around to face the other way, giving her sister as much space to herself as she can. 

Satsuki sits there thinking for good while. The way Ryuko’s breathing deepens and evens out lets her know when she’s fallen asleep again. Her quiet presence comforts her. It’s hard to think that they were quite literally at each other’s throats just about two and a half years ago. And sometimes harder still to believe that they managed to find each other in the mess that their parents left in their wake. 

Sometimes, she doesn’t quite know what Ryuko means to her, or how to label the accompanying set of emotions that thoughts of her entail. She thinks she hasn’t been more fond of anyone in her life, never wanted to protect someone so fiercely, never been so surely scared of losing someone. _There’s the elites, of course, but that’s somehow different._

The way she feels herself opening up to Ryuko is different. The way she feels when she sees her happy is different, too. It scares her sometimes, when she realizes how relatively easy it’s been for Ryuko to worm her way in, and how unconsciously willing she’s been in letting her do so. 

God, does she make her feel warm sometimes. It makes her want to… want to do what, exactly? She doesn’t quite know herself. Digging further than that requires delving into places she’s already struggling to get away from. Opening up to Ryuko is something she feels absolutely unprepared for now, but that she knows will surely come one day.


	11. Chapter 11

One morning in late January, Satsuki sits at the desk in her office as she reviews things she’s missed over the past month. Courtesy of Hououmaru, who kept a record of absolutely everything in her absence, and compiled documents neatly into hard copy files. Satsuki’s been going in to work over the past few days. Her arm feels better, and even though she has to wear the sling for most of the day, the doctor’s given the OK for removing it occasionally.

She stands up to stretch after a while, removes the sling, and does a few motion exercises for her shoulder. Apparently, therapy could take a while, so she wants to be as proactive about it as possible. It’s just about when she’s finished up that she hears a sound from the living room. It spills softly through from the other side of the doors to her office. It’s the gentle strumming of guitar. And then, after a few seconds, Ryuko’s muted voice joins in.

 _Love, with you_  
_Flowers, with you_  
_Romance, with you  
_ _Dreams, with you_

She’s quickly wrapped her arm back into its sling, and padded her way softly over to the set of doors leading out of the room. So as not to make a single sound, she takes care to turn the handle as slowly as possible. Her presence isn’t given away, it seems, because Ryuko’s playing goes uninterrupted. She’s sitting with her feet laid out over the coffee table, facing away from Satsuki.

 _Looking up at the sky with you  
_ _Walking down the road with you_

She comes closer. She can’t remember the last time she was so focused on registering every aspect of a sound. Ryuko’s voice is the slightest bit raspy when she sings softly like this, yet higher than she might have expected. 

 _Where will I go with you?_  
_You and me now_  
_The world is for us  
_ _The world is—_

Her weight creaking against a floorboard gives her away. Ryuko nearly jumps out of her seat when she sees her standing by the couch. 

“Don’t stop on my account,” Satsuki tells her. Her eyes are all lit up. “If I’d known you’d play such soft melodies, maybe I would have gotten you an acoustic.”

Ryuko’s face is beet red, and she looks like she’s weighing the pros and con of making an escape. Instead, she shifts in her seat and says, “W-Why are you here?” 

“In my house?” Satsuki raises and eyebrow at her. 

“Y-You said you’d be at work today,” she manages. She bites her tongue for stuttering a second time. 

Satsuki steps closer and leans up against the back of the couch. “Changed my mind.”

Ryuko bows her head to look down at the guitar in her lap.

“Sorry if I startled you,” she says after a silence. “I liked it.”

“I don’t usually sing, really.” Her embarrassment seems to have washed away now that the surprise has worn off. “…And everything sounds great on this guitar. It’s the best you could have gotten me.”

Satsuki hums in response. 

“So why’d you stay home?” Ryuko asks her, guiding the conversation away from her playing. “Your shoulder isn’t hurting, is it?”

“No, I’m perfectly fine. I just needed to coordinate stuff for the party, and I’d rather do it from here.” 

“Let me know if you need any help. I don’t have class today.” 

“Canceled?” Satsuki asks. 

Ryuko nods and her mouth twists into a scowl. “Prof sent the email out this morning. Coulda slept in if he had the courtesy to send it last night, instead of at the ass crack of dawn.” 

“Well, it works out.” Satsuki circles the couch to sit on the armrest beside where Ryuko’s seated. “Nothing pressing to do, right?”

Ryuko shakes her head. 

“Let’s go shopping, then. For you.”

This party that Satsuki’s been planning – it’s more of a business event, really – is set to take place at the house rather than the office. Ryuko accepted the invite when it was extended to her, mostly because she knows Satsuki would like her there, but partially because she’s curious about the business world that she sees so little of. The problem, of course, is that Ryuko doesn’t own a single formal outfit aside from what’s acceptable for a basic job interview.

“Isn’t the party in like, more than two weeks? We have loads of time,” she tells her. 

“Let’s go today,” Satsuki presses. “That way it’s over with. Plus things are only going to get busier for us between then and now.”

Ryuko shifts the guitar off her lap, and stretches in her seat before letting out a sigh. “Alright, fine.” And with that she drags herself off the couch to bring the guitar back up to her room.

“Meet me in the car,” Satsuki calls to her while she walks up the stairs.

“Okay.”

“And don’t forget a jacket.”

“Yea, I know,” Ryuko tells her quickly. 

 

The place Satsuki takes her to is definitely the most upscale she’s ever been to for clothing. There are no price tags anywhere in the store, for one, and she doesn’t need to ask to know that some of the wedding gowns cost more than half a fortune. Satsuki politely shoos away the salesman that greets them right past the door. 

“Oi, you didn’t have to bring me somewhere this swanky,” Ryuko says under her breath as she makes her way through sections of the store. It’s fairly small, and they’re the only customers present.

“Why not?” Satsuki asks. “Great quality can last a lifetime. Buy something lesser, and you’ll find yourself replacing it in a year or two.” 

“I don’t go to that many fancy events, in case you haven’t noticed.”

She’s wandering through isles now, and Satsuki follows close behind her. The dresses are put on display with so much conscious care that she feels uneasy at the thought of touching them.

Eventually, she makes to test the fabric of a navy coloured dress between her fingers, only to be suddenly stopped by her sister’s hand against her arm. She thinks she’s going to be in trouble, that she’s done something wrong, that maybe there’s specific protocol to follow in high-end places like these. 

But when Satsuki speaks, the tone of her voice isn’t irritated or chiding. “What are you doing?” she asks her. It sounds vaguely amused. 

“I’m just pick—”

“Come with me,” Satsuki says. She pulls Ryuko along with her, walks out of the isle and keeps going until they’re nearly to the other end of the store. They stop right between a wall lined with suit jackets, and a low standing shelf with matching trousers.

“I think this section suits you better,” she says, placing her uninjured hand over her should as an encouragement of sorts. Ryuko snorts back a laugh. 

“Was that pun on purpose? Because it was kind of shitty.” 

It earns her a playful shove to the shoulder. “Start looking.”

They end up picking a few together before requesting a fitting station from the associate that previously offered his help. Satsuki waits right out the door as Ryuko cycles through the outfits, and offers blunt feedback when she showcases each of them.

“I don’t like the three piece,” Ryuko tells her. 

“No, it’s not as flattering as the others,” Satsuki says. “Try the second one on again.” 

“The second one? The sleeves were too long.” 

“Just put it on. I’ll be right back.” 

With that Satsuki walks out of the changing area. Ryuko sighs before going back into her station and shutting the door behind her. By the time she emerges again, Satsuki is waiting for her with a set of ties hung over the arm she has in a sling. 

“See?” Ryuko says. “It does this thing with the sleeves.”

Satsuki steps closer and runs her hand along the shoulder of the jacket, then shifts lower to bring the open buttons closer together.

“But it fits you well otherwise,” she says as she examines the cut. “Frames your shoulders and your waist nicely. And I like the length.”

It’s a shorter jacket that ends right about at her hips. 

“Do you like it?” Satsuki asks her. “I’ll get Iori to rework it if you do.”

Ryuko nods. “Yea, I like it. If you think it’s not too much trouble for him.”

“He’ll have it done in no time. And better than this place could do it.”

Ryuko smiles a bit at that, and gives a short nod to show her approval.

“Now,” Satsuki says. “Pick a tie.” 

She shifts her arm forward a bit to bring the selection closer to Ryuko. They’re all in different variations of red. She chooses one with an unassuming pattern and a more muted shade. It’s interesting enough to notice, but not flashy enough to be gaudy or tasteless.

Satsuki looks satisfied, because she nods once before grabbing the other ties and hanging them down over a rack. Then, she carefully sets about removing the sling from her arm.

“Oi, what’re you taking that off for?” Ryuko asks her.

Satsuki just takes the selected tie between her hands and says, “Sit down, it’ll make it easier on me.”

Ryuko does as she’s instructed and takes a seat over the armrest of a lounge chair sitting in the corridor. Satsuki steps forward into the space just between her knees, and flips the collar of her shirt up for her. 

“Don’t strain your arm,” Ryuko tells her. 

“I can tie a tie without straining it.” 

Ryuko lets her string it around her neck. She watches as she lines the ends over the front of her shirt and adjusts their height before folding one over the other. She falls into absolute focus as she loops the fabric through to form the knot. Ryuko wonders where she learned to do it.

She wiggles the loop back and forth as she shimmies the knot tighter. Once it’s presses snuggly against Ryuko’s throat, she loosens it again so that it falls into place. She finishes up by neatly folding down the collar, and taking a step back to admire the completed product.

Ryuko grins at her, canines showing, and stands up to properly model the outfit. She tugs once quickly at her jacket to readjust it. “How do I look?”

Satsuki hums her approval. There’s a smile in her eyes. She closes the distance between them again to do up one of Ryuko’s buttons. Then, her hands trail up, following the tie she just fixed onto her neck, before falling down over her chest to smooth the lapels over.

Her eyes dart up to catch Ryuko’s before she speaks. “You look quite fetching.” 

Ryuko feels warm, where Satsuki’s hands are still pressed against the front of her suit. The compliment, along with the way her eyes spark with something akin to excitement, makes warmth crawl up her face, too. 

“Fetching?” she repeats. She takes a small step back, cutting off contact so that she can think straight again. “Who even says that?”

“Your attitude could use some work, though,” Satsuki teases. “Learning to take compliments is part of good etiquette.”

“Good etiquette, my ass.” 

Satsuki rolls her eyes. “I guess you’re charming in your own way.” 

“Bite me.”

Ryuko turns away from her to center herself in front of the mirrors. She fiddles with the tie, runs her fingers against it.

“Yea, I don’t look bad,” she says. There’s a smug smile on her face. “Guess you didn’t hog all the Kiryuin charisma after all.” 

“Don’t act conceited.”

Ryuko makes a chortling sound. “What, you call dibs on having an ego?”

She meets Satsuki’s eye in the mirror to make sure it’s still all in good fun, but receives no answer. Her sister’s staring intently at the way the suit fits her body. It makes Ryuko wriggle in it a bit self-consciously.

“Do you think we would’ve done stuff like this a lot?” she asks eventually, still staring at her through the mirror. “You know, if things were different?”

Satsuki steps forward slowly until she’s standing right beside her. “I think… there are a lot of things we would have done, if things had been different,” she says. 

Then, Ryuko feels something tugging at her sleeve, and looks down to see her sister thumbing where a cufflink should be. 

“But… I think there are a lot of things we wouldn’t have done, either,” Satsuki continues.

When their eyes meet through the reflection in the glass, Ryuko can’t help but trying to swallow away the choking feeling in her throat. The tie at her neck feels suddenly a bit too tight. Satsuki pulls her hand away, and their fingers graze each other when she does.

“It is what it is,” she says.

Ryuko nods, and has to blink a few times to keep from spacing off at her own image in the mirror. She clears her throat. Satsuki’s already putting the sling back onto her arm by the time she’s regained her focus.

“Are we set, then?” she asks.

“Yea, we’ll get you shoes somewhere else.” 

Ryuko steps back into her dressing room and spends a few minutes undoing the tie, and the buttons across the front of her shirt. She stands there in her underwear for an instant, looking at herself in the smaller mirror in her changing stall. ‘ _It is what it is?’ Give me a break, Sats. What kind of cryptic bullshit is that?_

* * *

 

“I’m surprised you’re not going to wear a suit yourself,” Ryuko tells Satsuki as she takes her own suit from her. Iori had her in for measurements only a few days ago, and here it is now, impeccably fitted.

“Why’s that?” 

“I don’t know, makes for a strong image, I guess.”

Satsuki smirks at her. “If you think I can’t be as equally intimidating in a dress as I can be in a suit – you’re wrong.” 

“I don’t doubt it,” Ryuko says. “If you managed being intimidating in a Kamui… I’m pretty sure you can rock anything.” She almost regrets saying it because of the way her sister’s smile quirks up in self-satisfaction. No comment follows, though. 

Satsuki’s standing by the dresser in her room, digging through a little jewelry box. She pulls out several pairs of earrings before trying to match them to her dress and the new heels she just picked up.

“You should borrow some cufflinks,” she tells Ryuko, who’s still standing behind her. “I have a few here, come and pick ones you like.”

Ryuko lays the suit she’s holding out onto the bed before meeting her beside the dresser. She picks through the jewelry box while Satsuki loops on a pair of earrings. She fiddles with them as she stares at her reflection in a small tabletop mirror.

“You worried about the party?” Ryuko asks. 

“No, I think it’ll go well.”

“Then why all the preemptive preparing?” 

“You can’t be too prepared…” she tells her. “Besides, I don’t have anything else on my plate right now to be doing at home… and the finalized guest list has come in, so it was on my mind.” 

She turns to face Ryuko once she has the earrings on, and says, “Guess who’s coming.”

“Huh? People from your work place?” Ryuko says. “I don’t know anyone.” 

“That woman, the agent we met.” 

“Agent? What agent?”

“The one who did the probing in the manor… I seem to recall you having a rather colorful opinion of her.” 

“Oh, that bitch…” 

“Right, that one,” Satsuki says. 

Ryuko twists a pair of cufflinks between her fingers, finds them to her liking, and then stuffs them into her pocket for momentary safekeeping. 

“Why is she coming?” she asks.

“She’s not coming for the government… One of our affiliate companies has hired her, apparently. There’s nothing I can do about the representatives they choose to send to the party.” 

“And they hired her for what, exactly? She ain’t business or fashion or marketing as far as I could tell.”

“Exactly.” Satsuki shuts the top of the jewelry box before turning around to shove the heels back into her closet. “That’s why I mentioned it to you. Just be careful. I don’t know if she has ulterior motives of not.”

Ryuko nods. 

“Also, while we’re on the topic of the party…” Satsuki starts off. “First, I’m sure you already know, but keep your vocabulary appropriate.” 

Ryuko rolls her eyes. She’s about to shoot back a reply but Satsuki keeps going.

“And second… I just wanted to give you a heads up about some of our oversees business partners.”

“You mean like, they’ll all be speaking English?” Ryuko asks.

“They should all have at least basic knowledge of Japanese… Otherwise they’ll be speaking French, German, or English.” 

Ryuko tries not to look too impressed. “You can speak all of ‘em?”

“I get by,” Satsuki tells her. “…But I didn’t bring it up to brag about my second-language fluency.”

She moves to sit on the bed, taking care not to disturb the suit already draped over it. She fiddles with her fingers unconsciously, and Ryuko waits for her to go on. 

“People obviously have different customs from country to country, so I just wanted to give you a heads up in case anyone comes across… a bit too friendly.” 

Ryuko huffs out a small laugh. “What, you warning me about getting hit on?”

“I’m just telling you it might seem that way,” Satsuki corrects her. “But you shouldn’t have anything to worry about. People know to be more professional that not, in my experience.” 

Ryuko pauses, looks like she’s thinking something over. 

“In your experience, huh?” she asks. “So, sometimes… they’re not professional with you.” She’d never really thought about it before, what Satsuki’s relations were with people within the sphere of the company. 

“Well, I’m sure you can imagine where it gets them if it makes me uncomfortable,” Satsuki tells her with something of a smile.

“ _If_ it makes you uncomfortable? And what happens when it doesn’t?” Ryuko tries not to let any sort of emotion bleed through the question.

Satsuki immediately tries to backpedal. “Ah— that’s not what I was implying,” she says quickly. “I mean, that’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about… Sometimes, it doesn’t hurt to be friendly back. It never means anything; it would be highly inappropriate, otherwise.”

Ryuko isn’t aware of the anxious anticipation seizing her body until she feels herself relaxing again. She lets out a slow breath. 

“Jesus,” she sighs with a smile that she hopes looks nonchalant. “I thought you were about to confess to having a handful of European… boyfriends? girlfriends?” 

Satsuki rolls her eyes. “Right, because I have so much free time between a broken shoulder and rebuilding the company that I thought maintaining liaisons overseas would be fun.”

“I hear romances are easier to manage the closer they are to home,” Ryuko replies. Satsuki gives her a look, but her cheeks have surprisingly caught a soft shade of pink. It takes away some of the efficacy of her glare. She looks down at her own feet before pushing herself off the bed again, not acknowledging the comment. 

“That’s all I wanted to run by you, really,” she tells her, picking up the suit to hand it back to her.

“Right,” Ryuko says. “Thanks for the heads up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got the lyrics for the song Ryuko plays from here: http://goo.gl/68da9U  
> It's from an official art release or smthing... which kills me. I know there's an audio post of the song circulating somewhere too but I can't seem to find it 
> 
> P.S. I love Satsuki more than life itself but im ngl Ryuko in a suit will send me to an early grave


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> drinking age in Japan is 20, and Ryuko's 19 at this point... but for the sake of the story, pay the detail no mind!

On the day of the party, Satsuki’s dressed and ready more than a full hour before guests are set to arrive. The house has never been cleaner. They’ve pulled away most personal items from the living room, kitchen area, and Satsuki’s office, and other rooms on the first floor have been tidied up for good measure. Ryuko’s just finishing putting on her suit when Satsuki knocks on her door.

“Give me a sec,” she calls out, slipping on shoes to match as she hobbles towards the entrance to her room.

Satsuki looks her up and down once they’re face to face and says, “Good, I was checking to see if you were getting ready.”

“Yea, ‘course.”

“You need help with the tie?”

“Ah— yea.” She runs a hand through the back of her hair, and adds almost as an afterthought, “… please.”

“I’ll teach you to tie it yourself sometime,” Satsuki tells her as she pulls it around her neck.

“You take your pain meds?” Ryuko asks.

“Just now. And the doctor gave the OK on taking off the sling for the evening, so you don’t have to worry.”

Ryuko nods and sits still as her sister finishes off the knot around her collar. It feels a bit tight, but she stops trying to loosen it when she receives a reprimanding look for it.

“Let’s fix your hair up a bit,” Satsuki says after giving her another look-over. “In the bathroom.”

She leads her out the room and through the hallway. Once they’re in the bathroom, Satsuki sets about digging through the cabinet under the sink until she finds what she’s looking for. Ryuko takes a seat in front of the vanity and watches through the mirror as Satsuki unscrews the cap off a little tub, and sets it down next to her after dipping her fingers in it. It looks like some sort of ointment.

“Ideally your hair should be wetter for this,” Satsuki tells her as she rubs her fingers together. “But it’s still kind of damp from your shower, so it should be fine.”

She starts at the front of Ryuko’s hair, and runs her hands towards the back as she spreads the pomade through it. Her movements become more firm as she works, and Ryuko lets her head be bobbed around lightly in the process. When Satsuki pulls too hard, she lets out a hiss.

“Oi, watch the life fiber,” Ryuko growls.

Satsuki eases up a bit, and lightly touches the streak of red in her sister’s hair. “It feels different to you?”

“A bit, yea,” she says. “If you touch it, it’s like a… tickling feeling, sort of. But it hurts like hell if you yank on it.”

Satsuki hums in thought as she continues fixing her hair. It’s starting to take shape nicely between her fingers. She plays with it a little, fluffs it. It feels nice when she draws her nails against her scalp.

“It must have hurt, then,” Satsuki says. “Whenever I pulled your hair, when we fought.”

“Life fiber or not, that shit would have hurt either way.”

Satsuki makes a huffing sound. “Guess I can attest to that, too.”

She pulls away then, and walks off to the sink to rinse her hands. Ryuko stares at her own reflection in the mirror. Her hair doesn’t look too different – just sleeker and less messy than usual. She briefly entertains the thought of bringing it back to its regular scruff, just so that she might feel Satsuki’s hands threading through her hair again when she comes to fix it.

 

When the first few guests to the party arrive, Ryuko sticks to Satsuki’s side for introductions, but remains relatively quiet as conversation goes on. She feels awkward, out of place, and a bit lost as to what she should be doing. The opportunity to detach herself from small talk comes as more people begin to fill the room. She remembers Satsuki telling her how many people she invited – a little bit over a hundred, she’s not sure of the exact number any more. 

It gets crowded quickly. Not in the uncomfortable sense, but in the sense that she can easily blend into the wallpaper relatively undetected. A few people bother her on occasion, including a young man about her age, who tells her he’s an assistant to one of the CEOs attending. They make pleasant conversation, and when they share a laugh she thinks she might have made a new friend, but things are cut short when his boss pulls him away for something. It leaves her alone again, and she finds herself unconsciously scanning the crowd for her sister.

She finds her in the opposite corner of the room, surrounded by about a dozen other people who are speaking to her non-stop. Ryuko can guess, by the set of her features and the way she gestures with her hands, exactly the tone of voice she’s using. It surprises her, how well she knows her mannerisms.

A laugh almost escapes her when she sees Satsuki turn to the man beside her, and placate him with a stare that has him looking like he would like nothing better but to melt into a worthless puddle at her feet. She wonders what he said to warrant that response, if he spoke out of turn or maybe even insulted the company. Either way, Satsuki keeps her cool and goes on talking without acknowledging his presence any further. She smiles, too – a smile that Ryuko instantly knows is fake. She wonders how many people Satsuki reserves her real smile for, and tries not to let the thought that she’s likely the only person in the room to have seen it go to her head.

_They don't deserve to see that side of her_ , Ryuko thinks. Warm and soft and beautiful—

“Matoi Ryuko,” a voice interrupts her train of thought. “I was hoping you’d be here tonight.”

She knows it’s Ebihara before she even turns around. No one else at the party would know her by name. “Ms. Ebihara,” she says in way of greeting. She catches herself sounding more peeved than she intended.

“You’re a handsome little thing,” Ebihara says. “Never would have guessed you could clean up so nicely.”

“If you’re gonna throw out a compliment, you can’t insult me in the same breath.”

“My apologies. Commit only the compliment to memory, then.”

Ryuko makes a huffing sound, crosses her arms with the slightest frown, and shifts her attention back towards the crowd. Her eyes stray naturally towards Satsuki again. Ebihara moves so that they’re almost standing shoulder-to-shoulder – or side-to-side, as their differing heights would have it.

“She’s quite the presence,” Ebihara says eventually.

“Huh?” Ryuko blinks once as she tears her thoughts back into focus.

“Your sister. You spend enough time staring at her, so I’m sure you’d agree.”

She bristles a bit, and swallows before answering, “She’s recovering from an injury, I just want to make sure she doesn’t hurt herself tonight.”

Ebihara hums and raises her hand to her chin, like she’s deep in thought.

“Can I do something for you?” Ryuko asks her after a beat. She lets her voice drip with genuine annoyance. “’Cause I’m walking off otherwise.”

“Not really. I just don’t know anyone here, and figured you were probably in the same boat.”

“Tough makin’ friends in a new workplace? What made you quit the government?”

“Oh, I still work for the government,” Ebihara tells her. “This job is just an… extended project of sorts.”

“That’s vague as all hell.”

“It’s not like it’s any of your business in the first place.”

“Then why’d you bring it up?” Ryuko growls under her breath.

Ebihara stares at her until she looks back, and lets the briefest smile touch her lips. “Why don’t we grab a couple of drinks? That way, we can keep talking.”

“Yea, I’m gonna have to pass on that.”

“You haven’t walked away yet, so I’m assuming you aren’t going to any time soon.”

_I really am gonna need a goddamn drink if she keeps at it._ She wishes she had an excuse not to interact with people – keeping the bar in order, or hanging up people’s coats. But Satsuki always thinks a step ahead, and had a couple of staff members come in to do those things.

“Fine, I got nothing else better to do. And I get the sense you’re just gonna keep bothering me until I say yes.”

The smile on Ebihara’s face tells her she’s quite pleased with herself. Ryuko tucks her hands into her pockets before following her towards the bar by the kitchen. She glances at Satsuki on her way there, hoping she might notice her predicament and save her from having to talk to Ebihara. But Satsuki doesn’t once look up at her.

They grab a glass of scotch each. It’s a single malt – the good stuff Satsuki pulls out only when people are coming over. Ryuko takes it neat and Ebihara takes hers on the rocks. She thinks it’s ridiculous to have someone else pour her a drink in her own home, but doesn’t say anything when the woman across the bar slides over her glass. She takes is and downs nearly half of it in one go.

“Heavyweight?” Ebihara asks.

“Not particularly.”

Yet Ryuko finds herself having well more than just a second glass as the evening wears on. She spends a good part of it in the living room, detaching herself from Ebihara whenever she can, and realizing, when they speak, that she isn’t always as aggravating as she expects her to be. Her theory was right – the more she drinks, the more bearable the conversation becomes. They don’t talk about anything in particular. Ryuko tries to find patterns in her inquiries, but it mostly feels like small talk.

When the party starts the peter out, and only about half the invitees are left, Ryuko moves to the back of the room to lean rather heavily against the double doors leading out to the backyard. The hum of incessant voices creates a buzz in her ears. It makes her head feel heavy. She wonders where Satsuki is, but feels too unmotivated to locate her. _Not like she’s been paying any attention to me tonight, anyway._

“Hey, are you alright?” a voice makes her head snap up. It’s Ebihara again. Ryuko closes her eyes, partially in aggravation, partially in an effort to stop her vision from spinning.

She doesn’t answer the question, mostly because she doesn’t think to, and Ebihara draws closer. She takes the empty glass gently from her hand before setting it down against a low table.

“Come on,” she tells her. “Let’s get some fresh air.”

Fresh air sounds like a good idea right now. Ryuko pushes herself off the door to unlock it and swing it open. Once they’re on the terrace, she pulls out a chair from beneath the outdoor table and takes a seat facing the yard. Ebihara follows suit and sits diagonally from her.

They don’t talk right away, and Ryuko fingers at the knot of her tie. Part of her wants to pull it out, or at least loosen it a little, but when she remembers Satsuki tying it for her, she settles for thumbing at it instead.

“You feeling better out here?” Ebihara cuts into the silence.

Ryuko sighs before leaning her head back against the chair. “Yeah.”

“I figured you knew your limit, given how fast you downed that first glass.”

“I know my limit just fine,” Ryuko replies. She turns to look at her. “Thanks for the concern.”

“I can go back inside, if you want.”

“Now you wanna leave me alone?”

Ebihara stays silent, only stares at her with plain curiosity as she plays with the glass in her hands.

“The party’s ending anyway,” she says after a while. “… I should probably get going.” But she makes no move to stand up.

“What? You need me to show you out?” Ryuko asks. She can feel herself growing tired. She wants to sleep. The chair she’s sitting on right now suddenly doesn’t seem like a bad spot.

“No, don’t trouble yourself.”

Ebihara starts to stand out of her seat, but in the process, without Ryuko entirely registering how, the glass she’s holding spills from her hands and shatters onto the ground. It doesn’t exactly startle her, though it prompts her into alertness.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Ebihara says. “I’ll go get something to pick it up with.”

“Nah, don’t bother,” Ryuko tells her. She stands up, careful not to crunch too much glass beneath her feet as she steps away from her chair. “I got it.”

Whenever something around the house breaks, she insists on dealing with it, because she knows a cut to her body will heal much faster than one to Satsuki’s. It’s become habit now. She squats down and begins collecting the pieces into her palm. Doing this drunk, she realizes, is a bit of a challenge.

Ebihara’s voice right behind her suddenly makes her jump, like she had almost forgotten she was still there. “Careful.”

She loses her grip on the shard in her right hand, and in an effort not to let it drop, lets it cut across the inside of her fingers. The stinging makes her let go of it immediately, and she unfurls her hand to examine the damage. She suddenly feels much more awake now that she sees the blood seeping from her skin.

“I told you to watch out,” Ebihara says. “Let me see.”

She’s crouched down beside her, and before Ryuko can say anything, grabs her right hand to pull it towards her. She runs her fingers along the cut and Ryuko hisses.

“Amazing, the bleeding’s already stopped,” she whispers to herself. Ryuko doesn’t need to look down to know she’s right, she can feel the wound closing away. Ebihara’s grip on her wrist becomes tighter when she tries to pull her hand back.

“What’s going on here?” a voice cuts in.

Ryuko looks up and recognizes Satsuki’s silhouette in the doorway. If her tone doesn’t make it perfectly clear that she’s angry, then her posture makes up entirely for it. Ebihara relinquishes her hold and quickly stands up again. Ryuko tries to do the same, but wobbles in the process.

Satsuki steps forward, and affords Ryuko a quick glance before standing toe to toe with Ebihara.

“I was only help—”

Satsuki doesn’t let her finish the sentence. “Everyone else has left,” she says. Her voice is cool, but there’s an intimidating edge to it. “I’d appreciate it if you followed suit… I think you’ve bothered my sister enough for one night. You’re lucky she didn’t suffer more than a scratch.”

“Is that a threat?” Ebihara asks. Right now, her presence doesn’t match up to Satsuki’s whatsoever. She would have been better off holding her silence.

“Get out of my house.”

She doesn’t spare them a disdainful huff before walking towards the front door. Satsuki watches through the doorway as she collects her coat, and doesn’t look away until she’s completely disappeared from sight. Then, she turns her attention to Ryuko.

“Thank god she’s gone,” Ryuko says. “You finally saved the day.”

Satsuki waits until she stepped closer before stopping her in her tracks with a hand to the shoulder.

“You need to get ahold of yourself,” she tells her. She doesn’t sound anything like when she was speaking to Ebihara, but there’s still a tint of anger to her voice.

“Wha— Are you mad at me?” Ryuko asks.

“I’m upset that you were careless tonight.”

“How would you know what I’ve been up to? You were too busy chatting up greasy businessmen the whole time.”

“The party was a business event, Matoi,” she snaps. “And I can multitask, believe it or not.”

Ryuko stares at her with a frown before saying, “Yea, whatever.” She shoves past her to walk back into the house, but realizes she’s a lot slower given the effort it takes not to bump into things.

A pair of hands grabs her by the shoulders again, steadying her where she stands.

“Let’s sit you down,” Satsuki says softly. Ryuko lets her sister guide her over to the couch, at which point she plops down heavily onto it. She shrugs off her jacket, loosens her tie, and then kick off her shoes with some effort. The cushions of the couch invite her to lean back against it.

“Here,” Satsuki says. Ryuko blinks and sees that she’s holding out a glass of water for her. She doesn’t even remember Satsuki walking off to get it in the first place. She takes it from her hand and downs half of its contents in one go.

She takes a deep breath when she’s done drinking, and says, “Thanks.”

“Up,” Satsuki tells her, holding out her hand for Ryuko to grab. “I’m taking you to bed.”

Ryuko bites her tongue just in time to stop herself from making an inappropriate joke. But it doesn’t stop her from having the thought. And it’s hard to break away from it with Satsuki’s standing right in front of her, still in her dress, still in her heels, still looking _fucking gorgeous._

Her mouth goes dry. She attributes it to the alcohol, and finishes off the rest of the water before using Satsuki’s good hand to help herself up.

“Hey, put your sling back on,” she tells her as they make their way towards the stairs.

“Worry about walking in a straight line for the moment.”

Ryuko doesn’t answer and does as she’s told. When they get to her room, she plops heavily onto the bed without bothering to take her clothes off, or moving into the sheets. Satsuki looks at her like she’s about to say something, but decides otherwise.

“We’ll talk in the morning,” she tells her. Ryuko nods. “I’ll bring you another glass of water.”

“I’m sorry, Sats,” she says. “Thank you.”

“You don’t feel like you’re going to be sick, do you?”

She shakes her head.

“Alright,” Satsuki says. “I’ll be right back.”

But when she makes it back into the room, Ryuko’s already fallen asleep, snoring lightly and amassing a small puddle of drool over her pillow. She leaves the glass by her bedside. Then, she quickly undoes the loosened knot of her tie, pulls it from around her neck, and after a moment of hesitation, unfastens the topmost button of her shirt. She turns the light off and shuts the door behind her on her way out.

* * *

 

Ryuko wakes up with a headache, and immediately chugs the glass of water she finds on her bedside table. Once she manages to stand up, she kick off her pants and unbuttons her shirt before crossing the hall to lock herself in the bathroom. She puts the water on cold in the shower, hoping it’ll wake her up a bit faster. She examines the place where she cut her hand last night. There’s only a tiny white mark over her fingers, kind of like a scar. Even with life fibers in her body, she’s surprised it healed so quickly. 

Once she’s toweled off and brushed her teeth and dressed herself for the day – sweats and a shirt, because she doesn’t intend on going anywhere – she heads downstairs to forage some food from the kitchen.

“Hey,” she says to Satsuki when she sees her sitting on the couch.

“Good morning.”

Ryuko walks into the kitchen and slices herself some bread before popping it into the toaster. It burns her fingers when she pulls it out, and she quickly tosses it over a plate. She grabs a jar of jam and a knife, and heads to the living room with everything balanced in her arms. She takes a seat next to Satsuki, whose arm is back in its brace again.

“Hung over?” Satsuki asks.

“Hardly. Took a shower and drank water… I’m feelin’ a lot better now.”

“I’m surprised. You were completely knocked out yesterday.”

“Chalk it up to the life fibers, I guess,” she says between mouthfuls of toast.

Satsuki folds the newspaper in her lap in two, pulls her glasses off, and sets both items on the table. “I want to talk to you about yesterday.”

Ryuko’s stomach drops. “What? Am I in trouble?”

She receives a frown. “You shouldn’t have drank as much as you did last night, not at an event like that. If you had done anything idiotic, it could have hurt the company’s reputation, not to mention mine.”

“It’s not like I was tryin—”

“That being said,” Satsuki interrupts her, “… I understand that Ebihara had something to do with it. Honestly, it’s her that I’m upset at more than you.”

“She wouldn’t fuck off last night,” Ryuko says. “I swear, I was seriously starting to get ticked off.”

“I believe you. Every time I looked up, the two of you were together… And then when people started leaving, you disappeared completely and I got worried.”

“You found us in the end, though. And just in time.”

Ryuko shoves the last half-piece of toast into her mouth and screws the cap over the jam container again. Satsuki watches the motion of her hands, and nods in the direction of her fingers. “How’s the hand?”

“Totally good,” Ryuko tells her, opening and closing her fingers into a fist. Satsuki hums in thought before looking her in the eye.

“Did you know that life fibers become more active when their host’s body is in danger?” Satsuki asks.

“…Well, I mean, sure. That sounds like common sense.”

“Alcohol is essentially poison,” she continues. “Consume enough of it, and your body computes it as very real danger, even if your senses feel shut down. You life fibers are probably hyperactive when you’re drunk… which would explain why your wound closed especially quickly yesterday.”

“I guess so,” Ryuko says, tracing the faint scar with the tips of her fingers. “What are you getting at?”

“I’m worried about that woman, and I’m especially worried about her being close to you,” she admits. “I think she knew what she was doing.”

“What? You mean she tried to have me drink… to rile up my life fibers? How the fuck would she know about that?”

“The way she was staring at your hand after you got cut cements it for me. Plus, the whole thing didn’t feel right. She knows. Or she has a hunch, at the very least.”

“I guess after seeing my hand heal up like some shit out of a movie, there’s no question about it,” Ryuko says. She looks up to see Satsuki has fixed her expression into neutrality. But she detects a hint of concern in her eyes.

“I guess… there’s nothing to worry about if she doesn’t have evidence,” Satsuki says eventually, to reassure herself.

“Sats, what’s the big deal? Even if she knows, even if she had evidence – then so what?

“They could try to take you away, that’s what,” she tells her. “They could… lock you up somewhere, conduct experiments, or worse, even.”

Ryuko suddenly feels nauseous at the thought of syringes and needles, and sitting on an exam table in a stale-smelling lab. She fights off an unpleasant shiver.

“She has no business interfering in our lives. I’ll be damned if I let her stick her nose in any further,” Satsuki snaps.

“Don’t worry,” Ryuko says. She thumbs at the material of Satsuki’s pants, right where her knees begin to bend over the edge of the couch. “If worse comes to worst – which it won’t – and they drag me away, you know I’d fight my way out and come right back.”

“It won’t come to that,” she says resolutely. “I won’t let them…”

If she was going to complete the thought, she lets it trail of unfinished instead.

She grabs Ryuko’s hand for an instant to shift it away from where she’s toying. She gives it a small squeeze before standing up off the couch.

“Since you’re not feeling hung over,” Satsuki says as she collects her things off the table. “How about helping me clean up the place?”

Ryuko knows it’s not really a question, and answers, “Yea, alright. But once we’re done I’m throwing my day away with a nap.”

“Your prerogative. So long as you don’t drool all over the couch.”

The comment makes her redden, and spew a few protests in response. And despite the warning, Satsuki still finds her sleeping and drooling several hours later, exactly where she told her not to. The peaceful smile on Ryuko’s face keeps her from cutting the nap short, and all thoughts of saving the couch dissipate as she wonders over what kind of happy dream Ryuko’s lost herself to.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helped a friend paint their apartment today, and couldn’t stop thinking about this fic lmao. So I wrote this when I got home... sum gud stuff to balance out the plot heavy chapter last time!

Several days after the party, Satsuki comes home to Ryuko sitting on the floor of the living room. She’s leaning back against the couch, feet stretched beneath the table, loose papers and notebooks splayed all around. Her hair’s tied into a small ponytail, and she spins a pen restlessly between her fingers.

“You’re home!” she says excitedly once she sees her. “You busy? Sit with me.”

Satsuki raises an eyebrow at her. “I won’t co-conspire in your procrastination.”

“I told myself I’d stop once you got back.”

“You don’t look very absorbed,” she says over her shoulder as she walks into the office. When she returns, she’s lost both her jacket and her briefcase. She takes a seat on the couch, just next to Ryuko, who’s returned her attention to her textbook. She flicks softly at the little tuft of hair behind her head.

“Oi, cut it out,” Ryuko says. Satsuki lets her hand fall again after one more little tug, and Ryuko follows the motion to let her head drop down against the cushion. She makes eye contact with a grin, but her sister remains impassive.

“Ryuko…” she says after a second. “Is that chocolate on your cheek?”

Ryuko sits up at once, and rubs at her cheek self-consciously. “Did I get it?” she asks, turning around to better show her. Satsuki reaches forward and swipes her thumb against the side of her face.

“Pig,” she says, wiping her finger against a tissue she pulls from her pocket. “And that wasn’t a compliment,” she adds when she sees the expression on Ryuko’s face.

“Not even if it’s like, a cute piglet?”

“Do you work, Matoi.”

“Yea, alright,” Ryuko sighs. She scribbles a few notes in the margins of pages for several minutes before dipping her hand into a plain white bag beside her – that had previously escaped Satsuki’s notice – and pulling out a fistful of chocolates.

Satsuki sits up and reaches around Ryuko to grab the bag. It’s much heavier than she had expected. And it’s filled with sweets – chocolates in boxes, chocolates in wrappers, lollipops, a couple of pastries—

“Good lord, Ryuko. What possessed to buy all this?” she can’t help but ask.

“It’s Valentine’s day, all the chocolates and stuff are on sale,” she says defensively.

“So you bought an entire bag’s worth…. To eat alone while you study? Have you even had dinner?”

“Yea, alright? I ate. Get off my case,” she says before snatching the bag away again. “And I’m pacing myself.”

“No wonder you’re not done studying,” Satsuki tells her. “You stop every five minutes to each a chocolate.”

She hops off the couch then, leaving a frowning Ryuko in her wake, before disappearing in to the kitchen. She comes back a while later holding a bowl of soup, which she sets against the tabletop across from where Ryuko’s textbook is laid out. She kneels down and starts eating, watching her sister work.

“Are you just gonna stare at me?” Ryuko asks.

“Maybe it’ll pressure you into focusing.”

“Suit yourself.”

Ryuko reads her notes, consults the textbook, eats candy, writes more notes, eats more candy – it’s a process that repeats itself continuously during the time it takes Satsuki to finish her meal.

“You know,” Satsuki says once she’s done. “We could set up a reward system. Every time you take five pages of notes… you get a chocolate. Or I can quiz you, and if you answer three questions right in a row, you get a chocolate.”

“Or,” Ryuko replies, “I can just keep eating my damn chocolate whenever I please.”

“You’re going to get sick.”

Ryuko rolls her eyes, and Satsuki pulls the bag closer to her in response. She digs through it curiously, taking the time to examine its contents. They range from cheap stuff to expensive hand made chocolates in pretty boxes.

“Are you gifting any of these?” she asks, taking out one of the nicer ones for closer inspection.

Ryuko raises an eyebrow playfully at her. “Oh, yea. Had my eye on the one guy who lives a few houses down for a while now. Bald spot, big muscles, looks like he likes it when girls call him ‘Daddy’. Just my type.”

Satsuki wrinkles her nose and snaps open the box in her hands a bit forcefully. “Keep tasteless comments to yourself.”

She pops one of the chocolates into her mouth, and looks thoughtful as she chews. As soon as she’s done, she grabs another.

“Holy shit, alert the press,” Ryuko says, nudging Satsuki with her foot beneath the table. “Kiryuin Satsuki is eating chocolate!”

“These are good,” she admits. Ryuko leans over to take one from the box she’s holding and stuffs it into her mouth.

“Yea, you’re right,” she agrees. Satsuki smacks her hand lightly when she reaches for another.

“Do your work.”

Ryuko frowns but does as she’s told. She picks up her pen again, and plays with her hair as she tries to focus. Satsuki watches her for a second before opening the big paper bag once more. She sinks her fingers through crinkling wrappers until she finds what she’s looking for, and pulls out a single red lollipop. It’s the kind that usually has gum or candy inside.

She unwraps it slowly, picking at where the covering clings to the plastic stick. Once it’s free – red and shiny and perfectly round – she holds it out across the table as an offering to Ryuko. She’s met with a questioning stare before Ryuko leans forward and takes the candy between her teeth. Satsuki lets her hand guide it the rest of the way into her mouth.

“Thanks,” Ryuko says around the lollipop as she shifts it against her cheek and sets back to work. She plays with it subconsciously as she studies. It clinks against her teeth when she moves her tongue. She pulls it out between her lips every now and then, before drawing it back in, and swallowing around it.

Satsuki might have usually butt in at this point, to tell her how unseemly she’s being, but her sudden fixation makes it hard to find words. The way Ryuko’s mouth moves, the way her lips stretch, the way she bares her teeth… It feels… distracting. Satsuki digs her nails into her palms, blinks a few times, to will herself out of fascination. Her heart might be racing. Her face feels warm. Ryuko doesn’t seem to have noticed a thing.

“Better, isn’t it?” she says once she’s found her cool.

“Huh?” Ryuko asks, lifting her head up. “What is?”

“If you’re eating that thing, you can’t get distracted by the chocolate for a while.”

Ryuko pulls the lollipop from her mouth. “I feel cheated.”

Satsuki shrugs with a small smile, and makes to take another chocolate out of the box for herself.

“Oi, you should watch out, too, y’know,” Ryuko tells her with a wave of the lollipop in her direction.

“You’re one to talk.”

“No, I’m serious. Aren’t you gonna sleep soon? It’s a week day, you always try to go to bed early.”

Satsuki makes a sound in agreement. “I don’t really see the connection.”

“Isn’t chocolate one of those things you're not supposed to eat before bed?” Ryuko asks. “Like, it’ll give you nightmares and stuff?”

“That last bit sounds like fiction,” Satsuki says, thumbing at the chocolate box. “But it is a stimulant, so I’m sure it won’t help put me to sleep.”

She takes the chocolates and puts them back inside the bag before moving it over towards Ryuko again.

“Speaking of sleeping,” Ryuko starts. “… How has it been lately?”

Satsuki shrugs and makes a sound that doesn’t really succeed in conveying much of anything. “Sometimes I sleep, and sometimes I don’t,” she says. “Don’t worry yourself over it.”

“You know, when people have to say ‘don’t worry about it’, it usually means there’s something to worry about,” Ryuko replies with a frown. Satsuki stands up and grabs her empty bowl of soup off the table. “… But, I guess you know what’s best for yourself.”

Satsuki comes to stand right beside where she’s sitting, and puts a hand over her head. She leans down and places a kiss on her crown.

“Goodnight, Ryuko,” she says. “Thanks for the chocolates.”

Ryuko keeps her head bowed. “Yea, sleep tight, Sats.”

 

* * *

 

March creeps along more quickly than expected. Ryuko is finished with her midterms, and Satsuki is finally allowed by her doctor to permanently remove the sling from her arm. It’s a great victory, and she stuffs the thing into the deepest recesses of her closet so that she might never have to look at it again. The first couple of weeks of the month have her going in for frequent physical therapy sessions. She can feel that she’s lost muscle, but is strictly forbidden from trying to rebuild it for the moment. Heavy lifting is a strict no, at least until the shoulder becomes less fragile. At night, she relishes in being able to crawl into bed without the sling on. The renewed sense of independence and mobility puts her in noticeably better spirits.

 

One weekend mid-month, Ryuko is lying lazily on the couch, one hand tucked up under her shirt to rest on her belly, as she watches a Jurassic Park marathon on TV. She’s partway through the second one, when the T. rexes are pushing the trailer over the cliff, when she hears the front door opening. Satsuki makes an appearance an instant later, wearing a tank top and black pants. Her hair is still pulled back, too. She sets her car keys on the small table to the side of the couch as she nears Ryuko.

“How was rehab?” Ryuko asks.

“Good,” she says. “Always ends up taking more out of me than I expect.”

“Feel like you’re making progress?”

Satsuki nudges Ryuko’s legs, silently asking her to make space. Instead of taking them down, she just wedges them further towards the back of the seat. Satsuki sits on the front half of the cushion. “Yes, lots of progress. We’ve moved away from range of motion exercises, and now we’re focusing on strengthening.”

“That’s great,” Ryuko says, nudging her with her knee. Satsuki turns her attention to the television.

“Haven’t you seen this movie enough, Ryuko?” she asks.

“You can’t watch any of the Jurassic Park movies too many times,” she says. “Although… maybe the third one, it’s not as good.”

“Where’s the remote? Let’s watch something else.”

Ryuko hastily feels along her side to seize up the remote control before Satsuki can. “C’mon it’s a marathon!”

“So, what? We own all of them.” She reaches forward to snag it from her hands, but Ryuko quickly shifts it away.

“I was here first, I get dibs on what to watch.”

“Please, Ryuko,” Satsuki says, in a voice that sounds much to manipulative.

“Nice try, but no.”

“Don’t make me take it from you.”

Ryuko tucks the remote behind her back and squishes herself into the cushions as hard as she can.

“Good fucking luck, Kiryuin.” She sticks her tongue out for good measure.

“You’re going to regret playing this game.”

“Big talk for someone who _doesn’t_ have the remote right now.” She tries not to let nervous anticipation color her voice when Satsuki shifts closer to her. She smiles the most instigating smile she can manage.

“Shall I test your resolve, Imouto?” Satsuki asks with a small smile of her own.

Before Ryuko can say anything, Satsuki’s fingers are squeezing and dipping into her sides. She tries, and fails, not to howl out her laughter. The tickling nearly has her doubled over.

“S-Stop, ohmygod,” she wheezes. She manages to grip Satsuki’s wrists, but loses hold of them just as quickly. “This is playing dirty!”

“All’s fair,” Satsuki says.

She slows down every now and then, to let Ryuko catch her breath, only to resume tickling when she doesn’t let her have the remote. They fall into this cycle for long enough that Satsuki realizes she’s going to have to change battle strategies.

She brings her legs up onto the couch for better leverage, and tries her luck at restraining Ryuko’s arms. It’s difficult given her recovering shoulder. She manages to pin Ryuko’s right wrist down against the armrest by her head, despite using her non-dominant hand, but her left arm keeps fighting it out.

“Oi, didn’t the doctors say no contact sports?” Ryuko says eventually, breathing heavily through her nose. It makes Satsuki aware of her own breathing.

“This isn’t a sport.”

“Wrestling’s a sport,” Ryuko argues. The arm that has her pinned is strong, and she’s tired of fighting against it – but she’s trying to be gentle with the side of Satsuki’s body that was injured. It’s difficult to gauge her strength.

Ryuko disengages their entwined hands before Satsuki can push herself too hard, and reaches behind her back to grab the remote. Satsuki immediately pounces at the opportunity, letting go of the wrist she has trapped to make a lunge for it. But Ryuko stretches her arm as far away from their entwined bodies as she possibly can. In a state of mild panic, she brings her newly freed hand up against Satsuki’s face to keep her from advancing.

“Get your hand off my face, Matoi,” she growls.

“Get your face off my hand, Kiryuin.”

She receives a palm to her own face for that. She tries to bite at it, but Satsuki cleverly keeps it pushed against her cheek, where those pointy teeth won’t reach. She pushes her deeper into the pillows, and then scoots herself further up the couch in an effort to reach the hand still holding the remote in midair.

It has her pressing into Ryuko, who feels as though she might be permanently crushed into the couch at this rate. She moves her feet up, uses them to try and kick away the parts of Satsuki that she can reach. She’s desperate to find any leverage that she can. But that particular course of action only prompts Satsuki to come closer, until she’s slotted loosely between her legs.

Ryuko feels herself flush about a thousand different shades of red. With Satsuki’s hips against her thighs, and their chests coming close together, she’s almost distracted into losing her grip on the remote. She’s glad Satsuki isn’t looking at her face right now.

She tries to slither away from the contact, but Satsuki follows her. It’s just about when it’s too late that Ryuko realizes they’ll be falling right off the couch if things keep on going this way. Satsuki, as resolute as she is about accomplishing her mission, doesn’t seem to notice.

“Sats, wait,” Ryuko says quickly, trying to issue warning. But Satsuki doesn’t stop, and Ryuko tumbles to the ground. She keeps her legs wrapped around her sister and takes her down with her for good measure – taking care not to let her fall on her injured side, though.

Before Ryuko can properly recuperate, Satsuki moves to straddle her waist, and successfully pins her hands against the floor. Ryuko doesn’t really make any move to fight it. She’s tired. Both their breathing is labored.

“Alright,” she pants, loosening her fingers around the controller. “I give.”

Satsuki grabs the remote, looks at it for a second, and then tosses it uncaringly onto the couch. “Honestly, I don’t even really want to watch anything,” she admits.

“Asshole.”

Jurassic Park is still onscreen in the background. Ryuko props herself onto her elbows, and Satsuki suddenly shifts off of her, so that they’re both sitting on the floor and no longer touching. She reaches to cradle her right shoulder after a minute.

“Did I hurt you?” Ryuko worries.

“Not at all,” Satsuki assures her. “It’s just a bit sore from earlier today; it always is after the rehab sessions.”

Ryuko nods, then crosses her legs before staring at Satsuki in silence. She raises her hand, and carefully brings it to Satsuki’s face. With a pointed finger, she makes contact with one of her eyebrows.

“You’re thinking about something,” she says, furrowing her own brow in mimicry. “Also, wow, are these soft. They feel as thick as they look.”

Satsuki pulls her hand away to stop her from running her finger over her eyebrow, and then smooths it back into shape.

“They’re not thick,” she says, cheeks pink. “They have character… Plus, they taper at the ends.”

“Right, sorry.”

“And, yes, I do have something on my mind,” Satsuki tells her. Ryuko waits in silence, so she goes on, “I’ve been thinking about Golden Week.”

“Oh— sure.” Ryuko hadn’t necessarily been expecting that. It’s as random a topic as any.

“I’m going to have to go away, for the entirety of it, it looks like.”

“For work? That’s ridiculous,” Ryuko says.

“Well, not work, exactly. It’s sort of like a retreat. A few colleagues I get along with will be there to discuss some things, but it should be pretty laid back.”

“Alright… Well, I guess there’s nothing for it. I’ll hang out with Mako since classes are gonna be done.”

Satsuki hesitates before looking at her resolutely. “Actually,” she says. “You can come with me.”

“Huh? No, it’s fine, really. You don’t have to worry about me getting lonely or anything.”

“Sorry, let me rephrase that,” Satsuki says. “I really want you to come with me. In fact, I insist that you do.” The look on her face tells Ryuko that she’s dead serious.

“W-What’s this about?” she asks eventually. Satsuki tries not to look hesitant, but Ryuko can sense the uncertainty in her.

“It’s not about anything… It would just put my mind at ease to have you with me.”

Ryuko looks at her questioningly before saying, “Alright, of course I’ll come with you. But if you’re not feeling fine, or something’s bothering you… you can tell me, if you want.”

“Thank you, Imouto. I hope the trip won’t bore you too much.”

“And where is it we’re going, exactly?”

“A small village a ways south, bordering a peninsula,” she tells her. “It’ll be nice – lots of mountains and beaches. Though it’ll probably be too cold for a swim.”

“Yea, sick,” Ryuko says. “I’ve never really been outside of cities very often, to be honest.”

“If you’re up for it, we’ll have time for some really nice hikes.” The smile on Satsuki’s face makes her feel warm again—a different kind of warm than when she had her pressed against the couch. It’s moments like these that cement how much she likes her. Just seeing Satsuki even remotely happy causes affection to bloom into her chest, and she’s sure she would trade just about anything in the world for that smile. She realizes – _I really, really, seriously like her._

Satsuki Kiryuin is ambitious, passionate, intelligent, caring in a serious ‘tough love’ sort of way, fiercely independent, stubborn… full of unique quirks and imperfections that make her human, and all the more beautiful for each and every one of them. Ryuko loves that she’s a total dork about some things. She loves the way she talks when her curiosity’s piqued, or even when she’s just telling a story. She loves it when her eyes light up, and when her voice goes soft. Ryuko loves more things about Satsuki than she can possibly begin to numerate.

“Yea, I’d really like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryuko... don't let the eyebrows draw you in too quickly.... 
> 
> (The Jurassic Park theme song is stuck in my head now)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first set out to write this, I honestly thought it would end up a one-shot. But here we are 50k+ words later lmao... and reaching a point in the story that I'm very excited to write!  
> Thanks for sticking around, and for all the motivating comments ^ ^
> 
> If ya ever in the mood to chat more about klk/ryuko/satsuki, come talk to me on tumblr @lifefibersync

Satsuki makes Ryuko pack her bags the night before, and lets herself into her room at eight in the morning when she still hasn’t woken up. She receives a bleary-eyed yawn and an indiscernible complaint muffled by drool-stained pillow, but Ryuko eventually manages to get herself up and out of bed. It’s nearly nine o’clock when Satsuki backs the car out of the driveway. Ryuko spends a large portion of the trip sleeping against the door. Her arm’s all bent up beneath her bundled jacket and the position hardly looks comfortable. She wakes up with prickling in her numbed hand, a sore neck, and the indent of her jacket’s seams pressed into her cheek.

She’s recuperated by the time they make it to their destination – a quiet seaside town, as promised. The only inn is at the far end of town, slotted between a narrow road and a hillside that rolls off into the mountains. The woman working at the front desk – she isn’t there when they first come in, so Satsuki rings the tiny bell sitting there to summon her – gives them a pair of identical keys before even taking their names, and informs them that their room is all in order. Ryuko takes one of the keys for herself and slips it into her pocket. Satsuki thanks the woman with a short bow of her head. Together they walk up two flights of stairs before reaching the topmost floor of the building, and then roll their suitcases down the hall until they find the plaque on the door that matches the number on their keys.

The room looks like it used to be two separate bedrooms, and the wall got torn down to accommodate a living space suitable for two people. There’s a coffee table to one side, surrounded by an armchair and a couch that might more appropriately be called a loveseat. Two full-sized beds with mismatching bedding lie within about three feet of each other along the opposite wall. There’s a fridge in the room, too, and a door leading to what must be the bathroom. All in all, it looks homey – well kept and comfortable, without being luxurious in the least. And the best part of the equation is the set of double doors leading out to a private balcony. Ryuko throws down her suitcase at the foot of the bed furthest from the bathroom, and immediately heads over to pry the glass doors open. She’s met with a chilling breeze and the smell of the sea. They have a view of a section of the beach from here, and a part of the mountains to the other side of the building is in sight as well.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Satsuki’s voice draws her attention away from the scenery.

“Yea, not too shabby,” Ryuko says. “A bit colder than I thought it’d be.”

Satsuki smiles at her, and for a second Ryuko thinks she’s going to receive an ‘ _I told you so’_ , or some other comment about the extra jacket she was encouraged to bring at the last minute. Instead, Satsuki says, “Some food ought to warm us up. Let’s go down and check out what’s in town.”

 

As it turns out, there isn’t much at all to explore in way of restaurants and shops, because most of the town is residential. It must not see many tourists – just one of those locations people seek out for vacation homes. They find a place to their liking though, a little ways away from the beach. After eating, they stop by a sandwich shop so that they won’t have to come back out in the evening, and Satsuki even lets Ryuko convince her to buy some pastries for tomorrow’s breakfast. 

Once they get back to their room, Ryuko, still feeling a bit drowsy from the idleness of travel, heads off to take a shower.

“Wait, before you go in,” Satsuki stops her. Ryuko pops her head out the bathroom door, towel hung over her shoulder.

“What?”

“I don’t know about you, but the drive down made me restless. I want to move around, explore the mountains a bit. You should come with me.”

“Yea, I guess I’ll shower after, then,” Ryuko says, turning around where she stands. “Do I have to change?”

“I’m going to put on shorts,” Satsuki tells her. “It’ll be a bit warmer away from shore, and we’ll work up a sweat, ideally.”

“Right— didn’t go on a run this morning? Must be feeling pretty antsy.” Ryuko raises an eyebrow as she teases her.

“I have a healthy routine established.”

Satsuki is definitely more fit than Ryuko, who only seems to work out when the urge hits her – which turns out to be more often than one might expect. But in no way is it ever planned, aside from those rare occasions Satsuki offers they exercise together.

She walks over to where her suitcase still lies forlorn at the foot of her bed, and digs out the shorts she brought along specifically in anticipation of this sort of excursion. Once they’re both changed, Ryuko puts her shoes on and bounces impatiently towards the front door. Satsuki is tying her hair up into a ponytail.

“Not quite yet,” she tells Ryuko when she sees her reaching for the handle. Satsuki then riffles through her own bag before making her way over to her sister with a small tube of sunscreen in hand.

“I’m fine, I don’t need any,” Ryuko dismisses her quickly. Satsuki uncaps the tube nonetheless, and gives her a look.

“I’m darker than you. I swear, I don’t burn!”

“You’re hardly a shade darker,” Satsuki says. She squirts out a bit over the tip of her finger. “And I’m only asking to do your face.”

There doesn’t seem to be purpose in protesting any further, so Ryuko settles for giving her a scowl as Satsuki dabs her finger against her cheeks, and pokes at the bridge of her nose.

“Alright, I got it,” Ryuko says, leaning back to rub the lotion in on her own.

Satsuki then pours some out for herself; she puts it on her face, the back of her neck, and the part of her thighs not covered by her shorts. She rubs some of the excess between her hands. When that doesn’t rid her of all of it, she reaches forward and spreads it over the skin right above the collar of Ryuko’s shirt. The smell of sunscreen seems to hit her even more strongly than before, and Ryuko is suddenly flushed at the light pressure of Satsuki’s touch against her collarbone. The moment ends before she has time to stammer out anything. Satsuki’s hand is on the doorknob, and then they’re heading out the room.

* * *

 

They’ve been trying to find shortcuts up to a good lookout point, rather than sticking strictly to the path, for the last hour or so with varying levels of success. Ryuko now sits on the dirt, winded from having scaled a sizable wall of rocks up to this level. Satsuki stays standing, and removes the small pack from her back to retrieve a water bottle. Her chest heaves even as she drinks, and once she pulls the bottle from her lips, a sigh escapes her as she catches her breath again. Ryuko extends her hand wordlessly until Satsuki hands her the water.

“We should stop racing up those,” she breathes once she’s finished drinking.

“Afraid you’ll stop keeping up?” Satsuki asks her with a smirk.

Ryuko shakes the bottle in her hand back and forth in response. “We’re almost out of water, is all.”

Satsuki makes a small ‘ _hmph’_ sound as she runs her forearm across her forehead to wipe of the sweat beading there. She then turns away and starts walking a bit down the path. Ryuko stays where she is, staring off into the trees until her sister returns a few minutes later.

“There’s another little rock face just up the trail,” Satsuki tells her. “I think if we get up there, we’ll have a nice view of the area. Shorter than following the path the rest of the way up.”

Ryuko hauls herself back onto her feet with a grunt, and says, “Alright, show the way.”

It takes just a couple of minutes to reach the place Satsuki was talking about, and Ryuko immediately lets out a sound of indignation.

“You want us to go up that?!” she asks. “There are like… no footholds or anything. I don’t know about you, but there’s no way in hell I can jump for the ledge up there.”

“I’ll just give you a boost.”

“…A boost,” Ryuko repeats.

“Yes, Ryuko, a boost. And then once you’re up there, you can just pull me after you.” Satsuki then crouches down in front of Ryuko, facing the wall of rock in front of them. Somehow, Ryuko knows exactly what her intention is – they’ve always been pretty in tune with each other on that level. She thinks back to the battle against Ragyo, to the moments they coordinated attacks in a matter of seconds.

Satsuki holds her hands up, and Ryuko takes them in her own as she braces herself to bring first one leg, and then the other, up onto her sister’s shoulders. They’re shaky at first, but Ryuko soon finds her center of balance. Satsuki slowly unbends her knees and rises up off the floor.

“Ready for me to let go?” Ryuko asks once she’s stopped teetering.

“Yes,” Satsuki answers shortly. The tone of her voice tells Ryuko that she’s deeply concentrated on keeping them both from falling over.

Very slowly, Ryuko starts to straighten herself, and Satsuki holds onto her hands for as long as she can manage before bringing them to rest over her feet. Ryuko braces herself against the wall to keep steady. She can almost reach the ledge.

“Can you make it?” Satsuki asks. “I don’t think my shoulder can handle this for much longer.”

Ryuko stretches up as high as she can, and manages to hook her fingers over the edge of the rock. She pushes her feet off of Satsuki, and then immediately kicks against the cliff side until she can haul herself up. She scratches up the insides of her arms and her knees in the process – nothing that won’t heal by morning thanks to her life fibers – but the climb is a success.

“Good job,” Satsuki tells her from bellow. She’s stretching the arm she injured almost four months ago now, and Ryuko is worried she might have strained it too much.

“I think you did most the work,” Ryuko replies. “Shoulder alright?”

Satsuki nods. “Now, hold out your hand. I’m going to run up; you have to be ready to catch me and pull me up.”

“Yea, I got it.”

She lays down flat on the ground, lets one arm daggle over the side of the ledge, and uses the other to brace herself against the weight that will surely try to drag her back down the way she came. Satsuki takes a couple of steps back before running up to jump against the rocks. She grasps Ryuko’s forearm firmly, and with her other hand, tries to find purchase against the wall.

“Holy—” Ryuko gasps. “You’re fucking heavy!”

“Muscle mass,” Satsuki tells her. “Bring your other arm down.”

Ryuko does as she’s told, managing not to slide away from where she’s lying.

“Muscle?” she grunts. “You're all ass and eyebrows.”

If Satsuki weren’t so focused on using her feet to push herself the rest of the way up, Ryuko knows she wouldn’t have gotten away with that comment. But by the time she makes it up, they’re both winded again. It doesn’t stop her from directing a reproachful scowl Ryuko’s way.

She almost clarifies that it wasn’t meant as an insult – but stops herself when she realizes there’s no way to convey a sentiment along the lines of ‘ _I actually like your ass and your eyebrows very much’_ while staying appropriate. Satsuki saves her from thinking on it any further by pointing to something behind her.

Ryuko turns around to see that the piece of rock they’re now sitting on juts out past the treetops, creating a perfect platform to look down at the little town bellow. Together they make their way right up to the edge of the precipice. Satsuki sits cross-legged and Ryuko mirrors her position at her side.

“The ocean looks even bigger from here,” Satsuki says. She then turns to Ryuko, looks at her for a minute. “You should’ve brought a hair tie.”

Ryuko can feel her hair sticking to the back of her neck with sweat. She starts when she feels Satsuki’s hand trying to push it aside.

“Oi, it’s gross right now,” she tells her as she bats away her hand. It makes the faintest smile trail over Satsuki’s features.

They sit there a while, until the sun is just about setting. It casts a beautiful glow across the entire peninsula. A breeze starts to pick up, coming from the ocean. It makes Ryuko shudder, but Satsuki stays completely still. The wind plays gently through her hair, and she looks relaxed enough to close her eyes and fall to sleep.

“Do I have something on my face?” Satsuki suddenly breaks the peaceful silence without turning to look at her. She sounds amused.

“Huh? N-No,” Ryuko replies hesitantly.

“Focus on the view, then. I’m not going anywhere.”

Ryuko flushes in embarrassment at having been caught – she hadn’t even realized that she had been staring at Satsuki the past few minutes. Her knees come up closer to her chest as she tenses up the slightest bit.

Satsuki shifts to face her. “I just don’t want you to regret missing anything,” she says, reassuring her the remark wasn’t made out of annoyance or discomfort. There’s a glint in her eye that betrays her want to tease, despite the fact that she holds herself back from saying anything.

“Only regret right now is not having brought up a jacket or somethin,” Ryuko tells her when she feels the wind against her body again. Satsuki looks up at the sky in momentary thought.

“We should probably head back anyway; it’s nearly dusk.”

The walk back down the mountain is less fun than the walk up, and is made particularly difficult during its last stretch because of the absent sunlight. It becomes a game of trying not to trip over indiscernible rocks, or stumble over errant tree roots that can’t quite be seen. They end up holding hands perhaps too often for it to be justified by their newfound blindness in the dark.


	15. Chapter 15

The next morning is warm – warm enough that Ryuko finds herself waking up to her shirt sticking to her skin with sweat. The heater, which is pressed up against the wall next to her bed, is promptly shut off. Satsuki, who’s already woken, makes her way over to the set of double doors leading to the balcony and pries them open to let some cooler air in. The drop in temperature successfully coaxes Ryuko out of bed, and once she’s dressed, they make their way into town together.

They spend a fair amount of time wandering about, and learn from some of the locals that a mild heat wave is coming in from the south – nothing drastic, just enough to raise temperatures during the daytime. Ryuko takes this piece of information as proper justification to stop by an ice cream shop that they happen across downtown.

She happily walks out several minutes later holding a shake, heavy with chunks of ice cream and topped with copious amounts of whipped cream. She slurps away at it with the straw sticking right through the middle as she waits for her sister to join her. Satsuki eventually comes out the door with a small cone in hand – just one scoop high.

“Say,” Ryuko says between sucks of her straw, “Aren’t you supposed to be meetin’ people while you’re here? What happened to that?”

“Nothing happened,” Satsuki tells her. “It’s scheduled for tomorrow.”

“I see.”

“Why do you ask?”

Ryuko shrugs. “Nah, no reason. You’ve seemed pretty laid back since yesterday – like you’re really unwinding.”

“Well, the meetings really aren’t worth stressing about. I’m sure they’ll go over seamlessly.”

“I didn’t mean to get you thinking about it,” Ryuko says. “It’s just nice, I guess. No school for me, no work for you. Like a real vacation.”

“As opposed to a fake vacation?”

“Shut up, you know what I’m sayin’.”

Satsuki settles on focusing on her ice cream rather than answering. Ryuko tucks her hand, the one she isn’t using to hold her shake, into her pocket as they continue walking down the street. The beach comes into view again as buildings grow scarcer. A light breeze cuts through the warm air, and sends Satsuki’s skirt waving in gentle circles around her, brushing against Ryuko’s legs as they stand side by side.

“Let’s walk on the sand,” Ryuko says when she catches Satsuki staring out at the water. She cuts in front of Satsuki to make her way across the street, and steps over a low wall to stand on the beginnings of the seashore.

“Wait,” Satsuki tells her. Ryuko turns around to see her holding out the ice cream cone to her. “Hold this. I want to take my shoes off.”

Ryuko does as she’s told, and watches as Satsuki crouches down to undo the little clasps holding together her sandals. She takes them both in one hand, and then steps over the wall to join Ryuko on the sand. It’s warm against the soles of her feet.

Just as Ryuko’s about to hand the cone back to Satsuki, she realizes she’s almost let an opportunity pass her by. A distant memory pops into her head – something she said to Mataro when they first met. _‘Are you that desperate to swap spit with chicks?’_ She brings the cone up to her mouth, and takes a big bite out of its side. Satsuki doesn’t look impressed by the time it’s found its way into her hand again.

“What? It was leaking.”

Satsuki looks down at the perfect set of teeth marks, furrowing her brow. “Who bites into ice cream?”

Ryuko shrugs. “Who eats mint chip?” she says before finishing off her shake with one long draw against the straw, to wash away the mint chip flavor. The ensuing brain freeze makes her scrunch her eyes up in pain.

“Ah – fuck, fuck, fuck, that hurts,” she hisses.

“Karma for being a thief,” Satsuki tells her teasingly. She licks over the ice cream, smoothing away the marks embedded into it. Ryuko consciously tears her eyes away. The trashcan she spots several yards down the beach is a suitable distraction. She darts over to slam her empty drink through the lid. The condensation from the cup has left her hand wet, and she rubs it dry against the thigh of her pants.

She waits for Satsuki to catch up with her, and they keep walking away from town along the sand. The shoes Ryuko’s wearing aren’t right for venturing any closer to the ocean, but her regret at not having put on something open-toed this morning is buried away when Satsuki assures her the waters likely aren’t warm enough to wade in. She entertains herself instead by kicking up sand lightly against her sister’s ankles, but the deadpan stare she receives for it quickly makes her shift her attention elsewhere. She climbs over rocks on the shoreline, and balances along the wall separating them from the roadside on their way back to the inn. She pretends to teeter a few times, and bounces playfully back to Satsuki’s side in the hopes that it’ll rouse one of those rare smiles.

* * *

 

Ryuko wakes up in the middle of the night to a biting chill. She sits up, rubs at her eyes before noticing the bed beside her own is empty. There’s a soft breeze breathing life into the sheer curtains framing the double doors to the balcony. As soon as she stands up, she notices Satsuki’s shadow, slightly distorted, cut out against the floor where moonlight spills into the room. Ryuko feels an anxious knot form in her stomach at the atmosphere. It’s the tranquil energy of water the instant before its stagnancy is warped away in ripples. 

She grabs her jacket off the corner post of her bed, intentionally rustles the fabric as she pushes her arms through its sleeves, and makes her footfalls heavy as she takes a few steps forward. The shadow on the floor doesn’t flinch, so she draws closer, until she can peek tentatively out onto the balcony. Satsuki is standing there with her arms crossed up over the railing, leaning her weight against the wooden bars. She’s wearing her bathrobe, but even its soft edges don’t hide the tension seized up in her back.

Ryuko knows she’s been heard. She can feel it in her sister’s posture. She steps through the open doors and looks out over the ocean for a minute before breaking the silence. “Satsuki. Are you ok?”

“This place is so isolated, it makes the rest of the world seem distant,” she says after a while. “Did you know that the Moon steadily drifts away from our planet with every passing year? It takes just over 27 days for it to complete a single orbit, but that number will have nearly doubled billions of years from now. The Earth will have long since been uninhabitable.”

“Moon facts keeping you up?” Ryuko says. It’s not supposed to be a joke, really, but it’s the easiest way to ask without making a big deal of things. She mirrors Satsuki by leaning against the balcony. “… And no, I didn’t know that.”

Satsuki takes a slow breath in, and Ryuko has the urge to push her lightly at the shoulder in some form of silent comfort. But there’s a strict self-imposed rule against touching that reminds her to keep her hands to herself at times like these.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” she adds when Satsuki doesn’t answer her. Satsuki suddenly finds the back of her own hand very interesting. She traces her cuticles and keeps her gaze away from Ryuko.

“Do you think your life is… normal now?” she asks her eventually.

Ryuko looks up at the sky, then down at the ground two stories bellow them. “Well, I mean, if I fell off this balcony, I probably wouldn’t hurt myself too bad. I don’t know if that’s exactly normal. But if you mean, like, compared to before? Yea, I don’t think it’s so fucked up.”

“I’m realizing ‘normal’ isn’t really the right word.”

“But I know what you mean.”

“I actually don’t think about it that much, everything that happened before,” Satsuki tells her. “Or at least I try not to. Not since our graduation at Honnouji.”

“But?”

“But nothing,” she says. “I have ambitions, I have goals, I have a family, I have friends… I’ve let everything drift away in the waters behind me, so nothing should be able to drag me back down.”

“Maybe some things take time,” Ryuko says. It’s quiet enough that they can hear the gentle rush of the ocean against the sand. “You’re Kiryuin Satsuki, right? Whatever it is, you’ve gotta keep pulling yourself up.”

Satsuki smiles a sad smile at that.

“Look at me,” Ryuko tells her. She has to will her expression to stay strong when their eyes meet – to remain a pillar for Satsuki’s sake. “I’m serious. You’re stronger than… whatever this is.”

“Have you forgotten you you’re talking to?” Satsuki replies. “Of course I’m stronger.” She pushes the words out but the way her voice wavers betrays her. At least it’s better than not having said them at all.

“Good,” Ryuko says. “…Is there anything I can do for you right now?”

“No, the fresh air is helping quite a bit.”

Ryuko looks at Satsuki, from her bare feet to her hair swaying easily over her shoulders. “You’re not too cold? You’re hardly wearing anything.”

“It’s fine. It makes me feel… present.”

“Do you mind if I stay with you a bit?”

“Not at all. Though I should try to sleep soon; I’m meeting people tomorrow. Or today, rather.”

“Ok. Cool. Just sit tight for a second I’ll be right back,” Ryuko tells her. She then shuffles backwards through the door, and Satsuki hears her rummaging around the room for several minutes. It’s quiet for a few minutes more, but she doesn’t turn to investigate. She takes a deep breath, feels her spine ache as the tension there unwinds the slightest bit.

When Ryuko returns, she has Satsuki’s coat draped over one shoulder, and holds a steaming mug between her hands. It’s one of the ones that came with the room. She holds it out to Satsuki, who leans over to see she’s made tea inside – from the packets she brought along for the trip.

“This is sweet,” Satsuki says.

“Bitter, actually. No milk or sugar, just how you like it.” Satsuki rolls her eyes but moves to take the cup from her anyway. Ryuko doesn’t let go.

“What do you say?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. Satsuki keeps her hands still, letting her fingers wrap over Ryuko’s around the porcelain. The heat from the drink seems to transfer up to Ryuko’s face, and her cheeks grow red the longer Satsuki continues to look at her.

“Thank you,” she says eventually. Ryuko lets go. “I appreciate it.”

She comes around Satsuki to place her jacket over her shoulders, lets her hands linger there when she feels her sister leaning the slightest bit into her touch. Satsuki sips at the tea, and lets her eyes fall closed as she bathes in its warmth.

“This always makes me feel better,” she tells Ryuko. “Like it’s been conditioned into me ever since Soroi started with it.”

“You saying my tea’s as good at the old man’s?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Her lips quirk up in what might be the beginnings of a smile. She brings the mug up to her face and blows the steam away to cool it down, sending little ripples across the liquid’s surface.

Ryuko thinks she’s going to take a sip again, but instead finds the cup being held out in her direction

“Huh? No, I’m fine,” she says quickly.

“Just drink it,” Satsuki insists. “I can tell you’re cold; it’ll warm you up.”

Before she can answer, Satsuki’s reached out to guide the cup into her hand. It surprises Ryuko, how easily she keeps touching her despite the nightmare. Maybe it comforts her somehow – maybe she doesn’t realize she’s doing it. It leaves Ryuko with an uncertain measure of how much Satsuki wants personal space at the moment.

As she’s holding the drink to her lips – it’s vaguely lemony – she suddenly startles at the feeling of something brushing along the side of her face. It nearly has her spilling tea over the front of her shirt. She realizes it’s the tips of Satsuki’s fingers, pushing away the strands of hair falling over her eyes and tucking them behind her ear. Ryuko keeps her face buried into the mouth of the mug while she waits for the hand to retract itself. The butterflies in her stomach practically redouble when she looks up at Satsuki again. She’s glad her sister isn’t looking back.

Satsuki is staring out at the ocean so absent-mindedly that Ryuko wonders for a second if she didn’t imagine what happened just now. But the hair pushed back behind her ear is proof that it did. She sets the tea down against the railing of the balcony, and slides it over a few inches in Satsuki’s direction before leaving it there to steam on its own.

“Thanks,” she says, her voice quiet.

“I’ll try not to wake you in the morning,” Satsuki tells her. “When I leave for the meeting.”

“You couldn’t even if you tried. I’ll be knocked out.”

“Let’s go back in, if you’re tired.”

“That’s fine with you?” Ryuko asks. Satsuki turns on her heal and walks through the double doors in response, taking the mug of tea with her. She looks back at Ryuko to encourage her to follow. Once they’re both inside, she shuts the doors behind them with a soft click and draws the curtains over.

Ryuko immediately makes for her bed, and leans across it to reach the heater against the wall. Satsuki’s voice stops her.

“Leave it,” she says. “You’ll be in a sweat by morning if you turn it on.” Ryuko obeys, and settles for burrowing herself beneath the covers to keep warm. She watches as Satsuki moves the coat off her shoulders before climbing into bed. The cup of tea she made her rests right at her bedside.

“I can hear you thinking,” Ryuko tells her once she’s lying down. “Your eyebrows are probably doing that thing.”

“What thing?”

“The thing they do when you’re thinking too hard. You got a little frown, too, probably.”

Satsuki fights off the urge to bring her hand up to her face, to try to feel the facial expression she’s fixed herself into. She sighs instead. “Go to sleep, Ryuko.”

“Yea, yea,” she says. There’s a trace of amusement in her voice even though she tries to stave it off. “G’night, Sats.”

“Good night.” The way she says it is soft and breathy, and makes a sense of peaceful sleepiness wash over Ryuko. She tries as hard as she can to stay awake longer than Satsuki, but inevitably fails. The deepening sound of her breaths as she begins to snore somehow serves as a comfort to Satsuki. She matches the rise and fall of her chest to the sound, and it helps keep her calm until she falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think that Satsuki is the kind of nerd who reads up on anything & everything she can get her hands on... She probably mostly uses the internet to browse databases or get lost in wikipedia articles. She likes to think about the /facts/ (╭ರ_•́)


	16. Chapter 16

It’s astounding how easily time can be made to pass with the right person’s company. Ryuko realizes this the next day, when she finds herself halfway bored to death after having circled the town twice over. Without Satsuki, it all feels smaller. There’s less to do, less to think about, less to get excited for—she still enjoys her time alone, but somehow everything feels _lesser_.

She goes exploring the base of one of the mountains nearby to occupy herself when late afternoon hits. After finding a suitable patch of grass to lie down on, she digs her phone out of her pocket, and proceeds to dial Mako’s number ceaselessly until she gets her to pick up. They talk for the better chunk of two hours before getting hopelessly cut off thanks to the nearly non-existent cell service on Ryuko’s end.

It’s sunset by the time she’s made it back into town. She picks up food to go at one of the restaurants there, and then heads off towards the beach to eat along the water. Her flip-flops are kicked off and left a few feet away from where she sits. She plugs her headphones into her phone, and puts only one of the buds into her ear so that she can still hear the sound of the waves rushing against the shore. Once she’s finished eating she shoves everything back into the plastic bag given to her by the restaurant, and places her shoes over top of the bundle to keep it all from flying away.

She’s standing ankle-deep in the water when the very last traces of sunlight disappear behind the set of mountains standing at her back. The sand sucks her deeper in with every wave that pulls against where she’s planted her feet. Her weight creates little pockets that turn into tide pools when she steps out of them. Small hermit crabs scuttle into their burrows every time the tide rears its head again, and Ryuko tries her hand at digging them up out of their hiding places. She finds a few interesting looking rocks in the process, and tucks the best one into her pocket for safekeeping. The other three are thrown back into the sea.

When she’s finished digging around, she squats down in the wet sand with her hands hovering just short of touching the ground, waiting for the waves to wash back up so that she can clean them off. She shakes the droplets away as she stands back up. As soon as she sets foot where it’s dry again, she realizes how cold splashing around has made her.

It’s one of those rare moments where the universe seems to click together in just the right way when she spots Satsuki’s figure in the distance. She’s holding what Ryuko recognizes to be her jacket over her arm, and doesn’t hand it over without a smile when they come face to face.

“Figured you’d be cold,” she tells her.

“Thanks,” Ryuko says as she pulls it on. She tugs her earbud off and unplugs the cord so that she can stuff it into her pocket. Her phone’s screen lights up and she sees two missed messages from her sister. “Ah, sorry, I didn’t see.”

“It’s alright. Figured out where you were quickly enough. I saw you from the window.” Satsuki gestures vaguely behind her, in the general direction of the inn. Ryuko suddenly feels self conscious at having been watched. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

Ryuko nods and makes a sound in agreement. “Water’s nice. Maybe a bit cold, though. You popped up just in time.” She shrugs to indicate the jacket, and Satsuki smiles in return.

“Did you eat?”

“Yea, just now.”

“Me too,” she tells her.

“So the meet up went well? Took a damn long time.”

“I would have cut it short if I could have, but it was necessary.”

Satsuki pauses then, to quickly look up and down the shoreline. Ryuko can feel her thinking. She eventually turns back to her and says, “Let’s sit down somewhere. I want to talk to you about something.”

“Oi, don't say it like that,” Ryuko tells her. “Makes it sound scary.”

“Well, it is important.”

“What kind of thing is it?” she asks, almost hesitantly. She feels a lump forming in her throat, and chastises herself for fantasizing for even a second as to what Satsuki’s intentions might be.

But when Satsuki grabs her lightly by the hand, to drag her further down the beach, her mouth goes dry. “Just come with me,” Satsuki says. “It has to do with the company.”

Ryuko’s fledgling hope comes crashing right back down to earth. But she isn’t any less curious. They end up walking quite a ways down, neither of them speaking, until they reach a huge formation of rocks along the shore. Satsuki climbs atop one of the lowest-sitting ones, and indicates for Ryuko to follow after her.

They hop up a little higher still, so that they can see the waves crashing against the side of the rocks bellow. The moonlight is strong enough to see clearly by. Ryuko crosses her legs and looks to Satsuki, waiting for her to begin.

“I didn’t tell you before, because I couldn’t be exactly sure that things would turn out as expected,” she says. “But now it’s definite. I’m selling off Revocs.”

“What?” Ryuko can’t help the surprise in her voice. She struggles for a second to regain her composure. “I mean—I thought— Stats, this is huge!”

“Hear me out, I promise it’ll make sense,” Satsuki assures her. “It’s something that’s been on my mind for a while now. Truthfully, keeping the brand name up was never something I really wanted to do. It was never the end goal. Revocs… just fell into my lap following Ragyo’s death. And even with a large portion of its assets swept away thanks to the mess she left behind, the company still held too much potential for me not capitalize on it.”

“Wait a second,” Ryuko interrupts. “How long were you planning on doing this?”

“I wasn’t exactly… planning on doing anything specific, really. But the thought has been living at the back of my head ever since I stepped up as CEO.”

“Who you selling it off too?”

“One of our closest partners. Or, at least, closest since I took charge.” She pauses to fixate Ryuko. “I think you met the man who’s going to be taking over, actually. He was at the party—fairly young.”

“That kid?” Ryuko asks once she recalls the person in question. “I thought he was an assistant or somethin’.”

“He’s works directly under the CEO – and since that man’s planning on taking his retirement soon, the company will likely fall into his hands afterwards. He was at the meeting today. I think he’s a good fit. I admire his work ethic, he’s intelligent, and his heart’s in the right place.”

“How much did you agree to sell off?”

“All of it,” Satsuki says simply. “Absolutely everything to Revocs’ name – the entire brand. After the revenue from this last holiday season, I have no reason to hold onto it any longer. I don’t expect to see profits rising too drastically over the next few years.”

“Do I even wanna guess how much you sold it for?” Ryuko asks.

“About one and a half trillion yen.”

“Hell! That’s fucking absurd! That’s like… so much money that I can’t even wrap my mind around it.”

“I’ll admit it’s a ridiculous amount.”

“So then, what’s next? I mean—ya got a plan or something, right?”

“Of course I have a plan,” Satsuki says with a small smile. It betrays her pride. “I could easily retire, but I want to keep being productive. I want to make my own mark on the world. It took me a little while to decide on how to put the money, and my time, to use… but I think I’ve finally got it.”

“And?” Ryuko pushes.

Satsuki stalls for an instant—intentionally or not, Ryuko isn’t sure. “I’m going to start up a non-profit. Soroi and Hououmaru are already on board. I haven’t thought of a name for the organization yet, but its focus will be on child protection.”

“Sats, that’s great,” Ryuko tells her after a small silence. She leans over to bump her against the shoulder. Satsuki falters for a second, but quickly recovers by pushing right back against her. “Seriously, that’s amazing.”

“It’s just… something that feels right for me to do. Something I feel passionately about.”

“I’m really proud of you. And if doing this kinda stuff makes you happy, then I’m all the more for it.”

“It’ll keep me busy, especially in the beginning,” Satsuki tells her. “But yes, I expect it’ll be rewarding work.”

There’s a small ache like sadness that starts to build in Ryuko’s chest—too complex to peg a single emotion on. She can’t help it when she reaches out to pull her sister into a tight squeeze. The hug comes in from the side, so strong and sudden that Satsuki doesn’t manage to turn in order to properly return it.

“Easy, I can’t breathe,” she says, laughing softly. It only makes Ryuko want to pull her in harder, but she lets go. She stands up and grabs Satsuki by the hands to tug her onto her feet.

The rock they’re on is at a tilt, so their positions make it that Satsuki stands even taller over her than she usually does. It reminds Ryuko of another time—when they crossed swords and yelled each other’s names, when Satsuki always seemed to tower from on high. She seemed untouchable then. In a certain sense, she still is now. She’s changed and yet she hasn’t. Maybe it’s the sum of them together that’s changed the most.

Ryuko steps down onto the next ledge, drawing Satsuki’s hand along with her. Their fingers glide apart when they have to hop down the very last rock before hitting the sand again.

“This is something worth celebrating,” Ryuko says as she nears the water. She spins around once her feet are wet, and spreads her arms in a gesture meant to invite Satsuki forward.

“By getting yourself sick?” she asks.

“Come on, just dip your feet in. It’s like… liberating, or whatever. Not even that cold.”

Seeing Ryuko kicking up water gently under the moonlight makes for a beautiful picture. Her canines reflect the light particularly well when she smiles up at her. Satsuki can’t say no. She slips her shoes off and holds them in her hand as she crosses the short distance separating her from the wetted sand. When the water comes up to kiss her toes she staves off a shiver at the cold. Ryuko laughs.

“What?”

“Nothin’” she says, walking back the direction they came as she wades a bit further into the ocean. “You just couldn’t stop your eyebrows from twitching, when the water touched ya.”

Satsuki gives her scowl, and without thinking, kicks up her foot to try to splash her. Ryuko lets out a small gasp at the unexpected cold against her thigh.

“Don’t do it,” Satsuki warns, already preemptively taking a step back. She still has the skirt on that she wore for the meeting—it’s one of her favorites, Ryuko knows, so she restrains herself.

“Fine,” she says. “Now that I’m wet anyways, might as well step a little further into the water.”

She strays from the shoreline the closer they get to where she left all her stuff, but only manages to make it knee-deep. Any further and the cold bites unpleasantly at her thighs. Satsuki stays several feet away from her, not letting the waves reach above her ankles.

“Ah—my shoes are over there,” Ryuko says once she sees their little shadow against the white sand.

“I’m not getting them for you.”

“I know, I know. Just tellin’ ya so we can get back on the beach.”

She runs right past Satsuki on her way out of the water, intentionally splashing her in the process. Satsuki doesn’t reward her with a response. Ryuko grabs her flip-flops in one hand—she doesn’t put them on yet because sand still clings over her wet feet—and all the trash from her dinner in the other. She then rushes off to the nearest trashcan to throw it away, and checks her pockets to make sure she hasn’t lost anything while playing on the beach.

There’s a bump in her front pocket that she doesn’t immediately recognize. She fishes it out with her fingers to find the rock she stored away just a little while ago. It’s smooth against the palm of her hand, and has a nice weight given its teardrop shape. A few white rings crisscross over its surface. It reminds her of a spearhead for some reason.

Ryuko walks back across the sand the way she came, to meet Satsuki halfway. Once she reaches her she extends her hand and says, “Found this rock for ya. I-I think it looks kinda cool… I guess.”

Satsuki’s eyes go wide with curious attention. She seems frozen on the spot for a good couple of seconds, but eventually reaches up to take the rock from Ryuko’s hand. “It’s pretty,” she says after looking more closely at it. “Thank you.”

“Y-Yea, no problem.” Ryuko tucks her hands in the pockets of her jacket, and turns on her heal to head back in the direction of the inn.

The breeze picks up on their walk back. They both put their shoes on when they reach the dirt road, and Ryuko regrets getting her pants this wet; she tries to unstick them from her skin when she bends down, but to no avail. The cold is getting to her.

“Take a shower once we get to the room,” Satsuki tells her when they’re climbing up the stairs to their floor. “You’re covered in sand. Plus it’ll warm you up.”

“That’s what I was gonna do anyway.”

Satsuki lets her unlock the door, and Ryuko kicks off her shoes as soon as she walks in. She rummages through her pockets, places all of their contents down against the table to the side of the room, and then disappears into the bathroom. The old radio clock sitting by the sink tells her it’s just past nine thirty. She suddenly feels tired—the kind of tired only felt after spending a day at the beach.

She makes her shower long, and lets the hot water bring life back into the tips of her toes. Sand washes down the drain from places she doesn’t even know how it got there. By the time she steps out again, the room is in a mist. She brushes her teeth quickly, runs a towel through her hair, and wraps it around herself before stepping out again. Satsuki’s sitting on the couch with a book on her lap. She removes her glasses and sets them down again the table when Ryuko comes out.

“Done?”

“Sorry I took a while,” Ryuko says. “Didn’t know you were waitin’ for it.”

“It’s fine. Just wanted to rinse my feet off.”

When she disappears into the bathroom, Ryuko makes for her bed and changes into the pajamas she left in a buddle there when she woke up. She takes her damp towel and drapes it uncaringly over the foot of her bed to dry. It’s better than leaving it lying on the floor.

“You’re going to bed?” Satsuki asks when she finds her lying face down against the sheets. Ryuko makes a groaning sound in affirmation. “Your hair’s all wet.”

“‘S fine,” she turns her head to mumble. “It’ll be dry in the morning.”

Next thing she knows, the towel is over her head. Satsuki has moved her way over to the side of her bed, and uses it to rub fiercely at her hair.

“Ow!” The exclamation is in surprise rather than actual pain. “Alright! Cut it out!” Satsuki releases her, and the world comes back into view. Ryuko’s hair is wildly disheveled. Satsuki is standing there looking at her; her eyes are smiling.

“Blow dry it,” Satsuki tells her. “It’ll take a second.”

Ryuko just flops back onto the bed. “You dried it enough, I wanna sleep now.” She expects retaliation, but is surprised to hear Satsuki’s footsteps straying in the other direction. She lifts her head up curiously when she hears rummaging in the bathroom, and sure enough, Satsuki steps out a second later with the blow dryer in had. She tosses it onto the bed, and sits down next to Ryuko. There’s a hairbrush in her other hand.

“Plug that in and turn around,” Satsuki says, nodding towards the hair dryer. Ryuko searches for the outlet hiding behind the nightstand, and as she comes to sit back down, feels Satsuki shift to face her back. “Can I?”

“Yea, sure.” No sooner does she give her response than Satsuki’s hands find their way into her hair. She combs through it with her fingers, to return it to some semblance of order, before brushing it.

Ryuko fiddles with the hair dryer in her hands, turns it onto the lowest setting and lets it blow up at her face. She plays with the temperature setting, too.

“Alright, I’m done. You can go ahead and dry it now,” Satsuki tells her. Ryuko turns around, and lets the warm air from the dryer hit Satsuki right in the face. Her nose crinkles and her eyebrows draw together at the sudden sensation. She brings her hand up to grip the barrel and turns the stream of air away. Ryuko is grinning at her.

“I should have just let you fall asleep with wet hair,” Satsuki says.

Ryuko shrugs. “I do it all the time.”

“Explains why your hair’s so tousled when you wake up.”

“It does that naturally,” she protests. Satsuki takes the dryer from her, turns it onto the highest setting, and uses it on her hair for a couple of minutes. Once she’s finished, she sets it down against the nightstand.

Ryuko roughly runs the brush through her own hair, to settle down the sudden fluffiness brought on by the blow-drying. Satsuki then brings her hands back to Ryuko’s head, and uses her fingers to mess it up once more.

“I like it like that,” Satsuki tells her. “Messy. And clean, of course.”

“Yea? Not too delinquent-y?” Ryuko asks, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Satsuki hums as though in thought, and ruffles her hand one last time over the top of Ryuko’s head. “Just the right amount.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying not to Lose My Way™ with this fic, but life stuffs are unfortunately getting a bit hectic rn. Hopefully I can keep up with the regular updates! I really wanna see this project through to the end, esp. bc I've come so far in the story now
> 
> (I've been looking forward to this chapter for a while... turned out a bit short though)

Satsuki comes back from an evening run around sunset. She doesn’t take a shower just yet, changes into a fresh shirt, and grabs the book she’s left on the nightstand before lying down across the comforter of her bed. She’s propped up on her elbows, ankles crossed. It might almost have made for a peaceful moment were it not for the sudden weight pressing into her back.

“Can I help you with something?” she asks, otherwise not acknowledging the perturbation. Her eyes keep flitting quickly across the page as she reads.

“Nope, don’t bother yourself. Just makin’ myself comfy.” Ryuko is sprawled out lazily in the other direction. She lets her body go limp, and puts as much of her weigh as she can against where she lies over the dip in Satsuki’s spine.

“Remove yourself, Matoi.” This time she brings her elbow back, to knock Ryuko against the side. It doesn’t hurt, but she whines anyway.

She almost wants to feel guilty for demanding Satsuki’s attention, but she doesn’t. The soft smell of her—Ryuko picks it up now that they’re closer—is made of fresh laundry, tealeaves, and faint traces of sweat from her exercising. It makes her want to move away even less.

“I can’t,” she drones. “Forecasted gravity today is off the charts. Body won’t move.”

“The forecasted gravity is about to help show you to the floor if you don’t get off.”

Ryuko doesn’t budge.

Before she can react, Satsuki’s twisted herself over and slipped free. Her heel notches into the dip at her hip, and with one strong push, Ryuko’s rolling off the side of the bed. She gasps in surprise just as she hits the floor

“I warned you,” Satsuki tells her.

“Guess I earned it.”

Ryuko’s head pops back into view as she sits up. Satsuki, now sitting cross-legged against the comforter, looks at her a second, only to go right back to reading her book. Ryuko considers jumping back onto the bed to retaliate, but knows Satsuki has too many grappling techniques up her sleeve for her to win. She makes a low sound in the back of her throat to show her disapproval instead.

“If there’s something you want, use your words,” Satsuki says. “… Instead of hopping restlessly about the room.”

“Let’s do somethin’,” she says.

“I’m doing something right now.”

“I mean together. Outside. Anything, really.”

Satsuki closes the book and places it face down beside her. “Alright. You choose.”

“I wanna walk if that’s alright,” Ryuko tells her. She stands up now, excited at the prospect of leaving their shared room again. “Out by the mountains. Not like last time, though—no climbing and stuff.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure gone?” Satsuki asks, raising an eyebrow playfully. Ryuko only tosses her her jacket in response, to try to motivate her up more quickly. She puts it on without bothering to change out of the clothes she was lounging in, and quickly slips on her shoes to chase after Ryuko, who’s already headed out the door.

“What are you in such a rush about?” she asks once they’re outside. It’s chilly now that the sun’s set. They both close their jackets.

“Nothin’. I dunno, I just felt antsy all of a sudden.” She kicks at a little rock in her path, sends it rolling several steps ahead. “Plus our time here is close to being over.”

“All the more reason to take things slowly, then. So we can savor every second.”

Ryuko hums as she keeps walking after the stone she’s playing with along the ground. She loses sight of it eventually, once she sends it flying off the path and into the bushes just a few feet away.

It’s brighter out now than it was when they walked down from their hike the other night. The moon—Ryuko spots it peaking through the canopy of leaves above—beams patches of light at their feet. And by the time they find the clearing at the end of the path, a few fireflies have come out to join the scene.

“Strange. It’s not nearly late enough in the year for them to be out of hibernation,” Satsuki says as she watches them flash in and out of existence.

Ryuko claps together her hands to try and trap one when it flies close. “There aren’t too many of ‘em. Must’ve not gotten the email.”

“Did you know some fireflies are cannibalistic?” Satsuki says. “Females of one particular species will mimic the light patterns of nearby species to lure in those males. And then they eat them.”

“True femmes fatales.”

Satsuki can’t help but smile at that. Perhaps Ryuko’s been helping herself to some of her books around the house lately. “Yes, I suppose so.”

They walk out to the middle of the clearing together, and Ryuko is first to plop down on the grass. It’s overgrown, and tickles her skin when she lies over it. Satsuki settles next to her, legs crossed. The sky is so clear that they couldn’t begin to count the stars even if they tried.

“Can you name any?” Satsuki asks her. Ryuko’s eyes flit from one speckled pane to another, trying to discern any sort of familiar pattern.

“I know there’s… the Ursas. And Orion. Cassiopeia, too. I couldn’t point them out, though.”

“I don’t think Orion’s visible this time of year,” Satsuki says. She’s looking up at the sky, scanning the stars. “But there’s Ursa Minor. You can see where it sort of forms a square. And then the tail ends right on the North Star.” She traces the sky with her finger.

“Polaris. I know that one.”

Satsuki nods. “And Ursa Major is fairly close to it. It has the same tail shape, but you can actually see the head and the legs, too. Do you see it?”

“Yea, I think so.”

“And I’m fairly certain Cassiopeia is that one, a ways away.” She points further off to the side now. “It’s a bit nondescript. See those five stars, lined up like a zigzag? They look somewhat like two mountains, if you tilt your head slightly.”

Ryuko spots the small trail of stars eventually, and tells her so. Satsuki then goes on talking to her about a few constellations she knows next to nothing about, and she listens quietly, drinks in every word. There’s something staggeringly beautiful in the way Satsuki grows impassioned at small topics like these. Without even trying, she steals away every piece of Ryuko’s attention.

“We could never see so many in Tokyo, you know,” Satsuki tells her. “Even on the clearest of nights.”

“Yea,” Ryuko says. “This place is kind of unbelievable.” She rolls over onto her side, so as to better face Satsuki, and props herself up against one arm. With the other she reaches to run her hand through the long grass. She lets it slip between her fingers, and closes her fist around the blades to uproot them with a steady tug. She sprinkles them lazily over Satsuki’s knee.

She looks like she’s about to say something, so Satsuki doesn’t interrupt her. She closes and opens her mouth a few times, licks at her lips in hesitation, before finally speaking. She catches Satsuki’s eyes only fleetingly when she does. “Being here the past few days… It makes it easy to forget everything on the outside,” she admits. “Almost like we’re the only ones in the world. Nothin’ much else to worry about.”

“A dangerous thought,” Satsuki says. She starts to brush off the grass Ryuko has speckled over her legs. One of the pieces finds its way between her fingers, and she thumbs at it absentmindedly as she thinks. “I have to level with you about something.”

“Sure.” Ryuko isn’t sure where her tone is supposed to fall, so she goes for as neutral as she can manage.

“As much as I love your company, my main reason for bringing you along on this trip was that I had concerns about your safety,” she says. “It’s selfish, really. I know you’re capable of protecting yourself perfectly well.”

Ryuko is quiet for a second. She’s not surprised at the admittance—she had, in fact, speculated that Satsuki might have insisted on pulling her along for that very reason. What does surprise her is Satsuki’s decision to address it at this very moment. “It’s about that lady, yea?”

Satsuki nods and says, “I know it’s probably irrational. But in the last couple of weeks, she’s reared her head at the office far too often for my liking. It was starting to aggravate me. I told her not to come back unless she received my explicit permission. I just can’t figure what her angle is. It puts me on edge.”

“It’s fine, really,” Ryuko assures her. “If bringing me here made you worry less, then it was worth it. Plus the vacation certainly isn’t anything to complain about.”

“I’m being serious.”

“I know. So am I,” she says. “Just… don’t worry about it. I know yer looking out for me, there’s nothin’ wrong with that.”

“I don’t want to push my worries onto you, but I do think it’s something that should be on your radar.”

“You said so yourself, right? That I can protect myself?” Ryuko reminds her.

Satsuki nods. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine,” she says. She reaches over grab to Satsuki’s hand, to stop her fingers from worrying over the abused stub of grass she keeps rolling between them. “Why would I be offended that you care?”

Satsuki lets her palm fall open. Ryuko looks up at her, tries to coax out a smile with one of her own, but is met with a rather intense gaze instead. She readjusts her grip over Satsuki’s fingers to tug her down and says, “Come on, you big nerd.”

She settles down slowly over the grass, letting Ryuko’s hand over her arm guide her on the way down. They lie shoulder to shoulder.

“Just… keep tellin’ me about the constellations and stuff.”

Satsuki sighs. Ryuko can feel her slowly relax beside her. Her hand comes closer, and she grazes their knuckles together. Ryuko thinks for a second that she’s going to take her hand, but she doesn’t. “It doesn’t bother you?”

“Nah, course not. You make it sound interesting.” She realizes just as the words leave her mouth that maybe Satsuki wasn’t referring to the stars. But she misses her chance to follow up on it when Satsuki begins speaking again. Her voice is a soft whisper, the kind Ryuko’s noticed only comes out during tranquil, intimate moments like these.

* * *

 

Ryuko sits on a chair she’s pulled onto the balcony the next morning. The sun-warmed slates of wood beneath her feet balance out the breeze coming in from the ocean. She’s tanned a bit since they arrived, and she thinks the bluish highlights in her hair have gotten lighter, too. A number of bug bites dot her ankles, no doubt from lying in the long grass the previous night. 

“Don’t scratch at them,” Satsuki’s voice sounds just over her shoulder. She turns to see her stepping onto the balcony. “They could get infected.”

“How come you didn’t get any?” Ryuko asks, glancing down at Satsuki’s ankles to find them absolutely untouched. She’s wearing a white sundress that falls just bellow her knees. It frames her impeccably—follows the arch of her back and the dip of her waist. The skirt billows lightly as soon as she’s stepped outside. She scoops her hair away form the back of her neck, and hooks on a pair of earrings. Ryuko is so entranced she almost doesn’t realize the subtle roll of her shoulders is meant as a shrug in response to her question.

“It’s a shame you don’t have a lemon on hand right now,” Satsuki tells her, turning to give her a small smirk. “The juice is supposed to alleviate itchiness.”

Ryuko swallows away the lump in her throat. “Guess I’ll have to tough it out.” She watches as Satsuki turns back the way she came, and then follows her into the room. She beelines it for where she’s left her shoes—a pair of nicer white sandals—before slipping them on.

“Feeling ready for the meeting?” Ryuko asks.

“Yes. It’s a formality more than anything else, to be honest. We closed off everything when I met up with them the other day.”

“So, you’ll be back when?”

Satsuki paces towards her. The heels on the sandals have added a couple of inches to her height. She hums in thought, looks out towards the sea for a second before saying, “I want to say in a couple of hours.”

“That’s quick,” Ryuko says. She props herself against the doorframe leading onto the balcony. The soft breeze rolling into the room cools her down as it ruffles her hair—still the slightest bit messy from when she woke up.

“We’ll have time to do something afterwards, so think of something while I’m gone.”

“D’you have a preference? It’s our last full day here.”

“No, not particularly,” Satsuki tells her. “I know you liked the beach, we can spend the day there.” She’s made her way over to the balcony’s entrance now, so that they share the space beneath the archway. Ryuko’s heart beats at Mach 2 when she draws closer still. It’s that damned dress, it’s the quirked up corner of her pretty mouth, it’s the soft smell of her perfume, it’s the way her voice drops when she says, “Or whatever you want, really.”

She doesn’t think she’s imagining things. There are enough hints to pick up on given Satsuki’s behavior—or at least, that’s the logical conclusion she comes to as she stands within two feet of her. Heart pounding. Stomach clenching. Fighting off a shiver when she feels her arousal sink in. It’s crazy, she thinks, how much she wants. And unfair that she’s so visibly affected when Satsuki isn’t.

Suddenly emboldened by her own nervous energy, Ryuko raises her hand up to loop one finger around the little fabric belt circling Satsuki’s waist. With a small tug, she pulls her forward. Satsuki’s natural reaction might have been to brace herself against Ryuko’s shoulders, or her waist, but she deliberately lets her hands fall against the wall instead.

Something changes in Satsuki’s eyes; Ryuko sees it. She takes the chance before her courage turns tail. “It doesn’t matter. I just want to be with you.”

The way it comes out—somehow, the statement’s left less ambiguity in its wake than she intended. It’s different from all the times before, all the times that could have been written off as nothing. The lightest dusting of color actually rises to Satsuki’s cheeks. Ryuko’s finger curls tighter around where she’s hooked it into her belt.

If she leaned up the rest of the way, to bring their lips together, the act would twist apart her restraint. The image forms in her head as clearly as she can feel Satsuki’s breath, so close against her own. She kisses hungrily. And it’s almost embarrassing, how plainly she lets her desperation bathe them both.

But she couldn’t do that to Satsuki. It wouldn’t be right, to pull her in. So Ryuko waits instead, for what seems like the longest seconds of her life, for her to bridge the gap between them.

Her pulse stutters when Satsuki bumps her forehead against hers. Her heart drops as soon as she feels her hand griping her shoulder—pushing back rather than pulling forward. And then, there’s the small, sad look in her eyes when she says her name.

“Ryuko.”

It’s all wrong. She’s messed up. She’s messed up, and now she feels like she’s going to be sick. She feels stupid. Before Satsuki can say anything more, she brusquely shoves away the hand resting over her shoulder.

“You have a fucking talent for sending mixed messages, you know that?” Ryuko snaps. She’s meant for it to come out a growl, but the way her hurts bleeds through dampers the effect of her anger. Satsuki, shocked into silence, takes a step back as she tries to line up words logically in her head again.

By the time she finds her voice, Ryuko’s already pushed her way off the wall and headed halfway across the room. “Ryuko, wait.”

She doesn’t, and moves instead to put on her shoes, which she’s left by the door. Satsuki wills herself to follow after her. “Just—talk with me for a second.”

“Fuck off, I don’t even wanna see your face right now.” Ryuko reaches for the doorknob, but Satsuki’s hand comes down against the door to keep her from opening it.

“You’re letting your emotions get the better of you.”

Ryuko suddenly spins to look at her, to meet her gaze for the first time since she pushed her away. The mangled mess of emotion there almost surprises Satsuki more than the way the streak of red in her hair suddenly starts to glow.

“Better than bottling everything up under ten layers of bullshit, and letting it rot you from the inside out.”

Satsuki holds her tongue, tries not to let her hurt show. But her hand, the one against the door, falls lamely at her side again. Ryuko seizes the opportunity where she sees it. Without another word, she walks out the door and slams it as hard as she can behind her.  

 

Satsuki returns to an empty room a few hours later, once she’s excused herself from the meeting. She wants nothing more than to mend everything, to glue back the pieces that shouldn’t have shattered. But Ryuko is nowhere to be found. Her suitcase is gone. Any trace that she was here only this morning has been swept away, save for her unmade bed.  

She sends one text, then two, and has to stop herself from sending any more before her panic sets in too strongly. She receives an answer only halfway through the evening.

> _Need some time alone rn. Ill meet u back at the house_

Then, about half an hour later:

> _dw even if I dont text back I promise im fine_

But Satsuki hardly sleeps that night, and lies awake the next, when she doesn’t find Ryuko waiting at home. Her worry rises exponentially with the length of time they spend apart. She tries and fails not to let a call ring through by the time the third night hits. And for the following days, every effort to reach out is met with silence.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a short update! I promise the next one will be longer :)

There’s a park a five minute’s walk away from Mako’s house, in Kanagawa, that seems forgotten to most kids in the neighborhood. It must have something to do with the rusty swings and the cobwebbed slides. It’s exactly the kind of place she might have used as a hideaway, Ryuko realizes, when she was in grade school. There are some things about her that still haven’t changed: the dirtied sneakers, her unkempt hair.

She wheels her suitcase to a rickety bench pressed against the park fence, and takes a seat beside it. Out of habit, she pulls her phone out of her back pocket. The screen doesn’t light up. It died early this morning, and she couldn’t find anywhere to charge it in the meantime. She doesn’t necessarily need to contact anyone anyway.

“Ryuko!” She turns to see Mako across the street, waving her arms about in greeting as she makes her way over. “I figured you’d be hungry, I brought some food.”

“Hey, Mako,” she answers. A perfectly wrapped bento box finds its way into her lap. “Thanks.”

Mako sits down on the bench, and toes at the little flowers growing among weeds at their feet as Ryuko tears through her food. “I was hungrier than I thought,” she mumbles between mouthfuls.

“You been eating alright this past week?” Mako asks. “Good health starts with a good diet, after all.”

“Yea, more or less. I honestly had to force myself to eat, the first couple days. But it’s been fine since. Taking care of myself isn’t anything new.”

“Satsuki’s been really worried, you know.”

Ryuko shovels one last bite into her mouth before putting Sukuyo’s now empty bento back into the bag Mako brought. She chews a long while before answering. “I told her not to. Worry, I mean.”

“You could have answered her texts, at least.”

“So you guys have been talking, then?”

Mako hesitates for a second, shrugs her shoulders. “Well, yea. I mean, we talk sometimes.”

“You know what I’m sayin’.”

“She called me a couple of nights after you guys were supposed to be back from the trip,” Mako admits. “She thought that maybe you were staying at our place, since you weren’t home. She said she didn’t even need to talk to you—that she just wanted to know if you were alright.”

Ryuko makes a huffing sound, plays with her fingers before looking over at Mako. “And?” she prompts.

“And I told her you weren’t with me. She sounded worried, so I offered to come over to your place, if she wanted.”

The knowledge that Mako and Satsuki have been talking about her makes Ryuko more nervous than she was before. It’s not that she doesn’t trust them both more than anyone else in the world—but it’s exactly for that reason that she feels suddenly vulnerable. Together, they probably know most things about her that there are to know. Add Senketsu, and you would probably piece together a near-complete picture.

Mako continues speaking when she’s met with silence, and asks, “What happened exactly?”

“What did she tell you?” Ryuko retorts. She finds it hard to believe that Satsuki wouldn’t have given her side of the story yet. She’s not entirely sure she’s ready to hear it from Mako right now.

“She didn’t, really. You know how Satsuki is.”

Ryuko grunts.

“I know you like her, so if it has something to do with that…” Mako says, voice small. “You can tell me.”

Ryuko’s heart seizes in her chest, her cheeks flush red. “Wha—And where’d you get that damn idea, huh?”

“My own head,” she answers simply. “I have eyes, you know. Plus I’m your best friend! Shouldn’t I know these things?” Mako casts her a look that suddenly has her feeling a bit guilty.

Ryuko turns away, stays silent. A few seconds tick by.

“So, what’s your favorite thing about her?” Mako asks, adopting a new tactic. “She’s probably the most gorgeous person I’ve ever met. Maybe one of the smartest, too.”

“I don’t know, what’s your favorite thing about Gamagori?” Ryuko snaps.

“Easy! He has a really big—”

A hand against her mouth stops her from completing the thought. “Alright, heard enough.”

“So that’s a yes, then?” she blurts out as soon as she can speak again. “That you like her?”

“Yea, whatever.” She crosses her arm over her chest.

“Whatever? You should see the way your eyes get like, super intense sometimes when you look at her. That’s not just ‘whatever’.”

“Give it a damn rest, Mako. Yes means yes.”

Ryuko is so red her ears might blow steam any second, and Mako looks entirely too satisfied for it.

“I don’t get it,” Ryuko tells her once she’s regained some semblance of composure. “How are you so chill about this? She’s—we’re related.”

Mako shrugs. “I don’t think it’s that weird. You guys… you’re not the same as me and Mataro, or Uzu and his brother. Everyone saw how you guys were, before you even knew the truth.”

“Everyone? What does that mean?”

“Nothing, nothing. I just mean there was… tension, you know? Kind of hard not to notice.”

“Fuck,” Ryuko says. “What did she say? What did she tell you when you guys talked?”

“Like I said, nothing, really. It was all super vague, I think she was just worried.”

“Then why did you go straight to askin’ me about this kinda stuff?”

“I don’t know, I just put two and two together. You had a misunderstanding—I think that’s how she put it. You ended up storming off one morning. And she wishes you hadn’t.”

Ryuko's brow furrows, and her jaw clenches.

“Would you mind giving me the story?” Mako says. “Since I’m only filling gaps at this point.”

“I don’t know, it’s kinda… hard to explain.”

“Did you sleep together?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Then what? Did you tell her how you feel?”

Ryuko hesitates. “Sort of? Involuntarily, I guess.”

“What did she say?”

“I-I don’t know. Technically, she didn’t really say anything. But she didn’t have to. I could see it on her face. I fucked up big time, Mako.”

“How do you know you fucked up, if she didn’t say anything?”

“Look, I don’t know how to explain it. It’s something I can’t put into words. All I know is we weren’t on the same page.”

“Not being on the same page and ‘fucking up big time’ are two different things. You have to go back home and talk to her. It won’t do you any good, sitting it out by yourself, thinking about all the worst-case scenarios,” Mako tells her. “This is something that happened between the both of you, so it won’t get resolved if you avoid each other.”

“What if she hates me?” Ryuko worries. “What if she thinks I’m disgusting?” Her tone betrays real fear when she goes on, “What if she doesn’t want me to live with her anymore? If I have to move out?”  _What if I'm cast aside again?_

“Would she have kept trying to reach you if that were the case?”

Ryuko’s shoulders slump, and she finds nothing better to preoccupy herself with than the handle of her suitcase resting right beside her.

“Listen,” Mako says. Her tone is softer now, more comforting. “I can’t say what’s going on in Satsuki’s head any more than you can. But she really loves you. I know that, for sure. And I know you know that.”

Ryuko resigns with a nod.

“There. You guys need to get better about communicating.”

“We _do_ communicate, most of the time,” Ryuko protests.

“I mean _verbally_. And you should aim for all the time, not most of the time. You have to go talk to her. Just get it over with. The more you wait, the more she’s going to feel hurt, and the harder it’s gonna be for you to do anything.”

“That’s the last thing I want. I want her to be happy—preferably with me in the picture.”

“And I’m telling you she wants the same thing.”

“But not the way I want it.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Mako tells her. Ryuko thinks her tone sounds too falsely optimistic. “And speculating won’t get you anywhere, so move your butt and go talk to her.”

“Alright, alright, I get it.”

Mako’s lip settles into a pout. “The Ryuko I know, my Ryuko, is brave enough to do this. So tell me you’re going to go back today.”

“I’m going back today,” she sighs. She looks down at her suitcase, at the scuffmarks it’s accumulated over the past week.

 _Brave? This is different, though_ , Ryuko thinks at Mako’s last statement. There’s something perfectly instinctual about risking her life in the heat of the moment. When she had to rip Junketsu from her body, she did it without a second thought—there was no alternative. The same conditions held when she fought Ragyo. She would succeed, or she would die.

But now, even putting aside the self-centered preoccupation as to whether or not she might be rejected a second time, it’s Satsuki’s feelings that are at stake. It’s their entire relationship, and that sounds terribly more frightening than anything else she’s ever had to lay on the line.


	19. Chapter 19

Ryuko is rooted at the front doorstep to her own house for a solid minute before finally sliding her key through the lock. She feels like it’s the loudest sound she’s ever made. By the time it’s twisted back the deadbolt with a click, all her adrenaline has kicked in. It makes her feel less nervous now than she did on her way over from talking with Mako.

She’s almost disappointed when she opens the door to find no one standing on the other side. But Satsuki appears not an instant later, and halts halfway down the stairs, hand against the railing, to stare at her. Ryuko feels the sweat at her palm begin to slicken the plastic handle of her suitcase. Happiness timidly settles over her chest and brings her worry back into perspective as she sees Satsuki cycle through a few different emotions. There’s surprise, in the way her eyes widen minutely, and then relief, in the way her eyebrows tilt, and finally something like frustration, to hide away the hurt.

And despite the circumstances, Ryuko finds herself realizing how much she truly missed her sister. Satsuki jogs down the last several steps to make her way over. Ryuko wonders how she could have been so stupidly self-absorbed, when she sees worry in Satsuki’s eyes, to think that she would be hated for what happened. There’s no traveling back across burned bridges, but maybe together they could build one anew.

“I’m home,” she manages meekly, like a child who knows they’ve done something wrong.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Satsuki asks. “Text me?”

Ryuko bristles but has the decency to cast her eyes down and say, “I’m sorry, I know I should have—my phone died today. I would have told you I was coming home.”

“What if something had happened? I had no way of knowing what was going on.”

“I know, I know. I just… I told you that I needed some time.”

“Well it would have been nice of you to mention that ‘some time’ meant a whole week,” she says. Ryuko sighs, and it makes Satsuki’s eyebrows twitch. “I was worried. And believe it or not, you’re not the only one with things to process. The least you could have done was give me _some_ sign of life—anything, Ryuko. I was just asking for one message.”

“What do you want me to say? I already told you I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say it just because you think it’s what I want to hear,” Satsuki snaps.

“I’m sorry,” Ryuko repeats. “I’m actually sorry.”

“And?”

She feels her patience begin to slip away. “I prolly should have texted you? I don’t know, Sats. Give me a break.”

“Probably?” Satsuki crosses her arms over her chest, like she’s physically straining to keep her composure. “You probably should have texted?”

Ryuko’s restraint breaks at that. “Listen,” she says, something close to a growl. “I get that it was shitty, okay? But you don’t get to do this. You need to respect that I needed time to myself. I’m not gonna say I regret not callin’ or whatever, because I don’t. I realize it didn’t feel fair to you, but the opposite wouldn’t have felt fair to me.”

“That’s not much of an apology,” Satsuki tells her. “You know you acted inconsiderately, and you don’t regret it?”

“Yer makin’ it sound shittier than the way I mean it!”

“I’m only repeating exactly what you said to me.”

A frustrated grunt escapes her, and she barely restrains herself from kicking at her suitcase. “You just told me not to say things because you wanna hear ‘em, but that’s exactly what you’re trying to get me to do! I’m not gonna say I should have called you, when I don’t think it was the right choice for me.”

Satsuki closes her eyes a takes a breath before saying, “Thank you for the honesty, but you do understand where I’m coming from, don’t you?”

Ryuko nods.

“Just—put what happened this time aside for a moment, because the argument’s only going to devolve at this rate. I want to know that things will be different if something like this happens in the future.”

“What, you want me to promise not to fuck off again?” Ryuko asks.

“You’re an adult. You have the right to leave when you need the space. But… I don’t know, we should at least agree to some things.”

“Like?" 

“Some level of communication,” Satsuki says. “I don’t need to know where you are, or when exactly you’re coming home. But anything more than silence would be nice, especially if the reason for your disappearance is hazy.”

Ryuko’s shoulders relax a little. “Okay, I can do that.”

“I know it sounds nagging,” she allows herself to ramble on. “But I don’t care. I don’t like coming home to an empty house for days on end with nothing but a couple of vague text messages as explanation. I got worried.”

Ryuko uses her fist to bump Satsuki lightly against the arm, crossing for a moment the strained barrier between them, the few feet of space neither had broken yet. “I’m here now, yea? I promise I’ll be better next time—if there’s a next time.”

“Good. Welcome home, Ryuko,” she says, giving her a small smile. It warms Ryuko, and the affection growing in her chest suddenly brings forward memories of what she did to get them in this situation in the first place. She swallows nervously.

“Listen, Sats,” Ryuko starts, riding out the anxiety in hopes that it’ll push her through things more quickly. “While we’re on the topic of communicating and stuff… I’m really sorry bout what happened. I don’t mean the running away part. Back at the hotel. My head wasn’t in the right place.”

“You don’t have to justify anything,” Satsuki replies quickly. She stalls an instant, and in her eyes, Ryuko sees a dozen quick calculations take place. She then crosses her arms over her chest, and brings her shoulders up in something of a shrug. “I… Every bit of time we spent together on that vacation is precious to me. Whatever happened, whatever tiny moment brought it to a close—it doesn’t upset me. I don’t want the turn it took to color the memories of our time together.”

Ryuko looks confused for a good number of seconds and tries not to let it show. She ruminates on her sister’s words, chewing and turning them around every which way to help them sink in.

“I’m not angry about anything,” Satsuki clarifies when enough time has gone on without an answer. “You’re still Ryuko; you’re still my sister… And I’m glad you’re home again.”

“Yea,” Ryuko manages. _Sister_ —the word feels like a punch to the gut. “I’m glad, too.”

Her heart should feel light but it weighs like a stone; it pulls against her lungs in a way that makes it hard to draw a breath without hurting. It’s not the worst outcome she had imagined, but it certainly isn’t the best, either. And it feels like she can’t find space to add anything more after Satsuki’s little spiel. She feels embarrassed again, and turns her gaze towards the floor. In light of Satsuki’s reaction, she wonders if maybe her mind didn’t make up the whole thing in a fever dream.

Satsuki steps forward and tentatively holds out her arms in Ryuko’s direction. “A hug?” she asks. “I believe it would be appropriate about now.”

Confused anger flares in Ryuko, and she has to restrain herself from saying anything brash. She’s never refused a hug from Satsuki before, but this time, things are different. Touching would only rub salt into a fresh wound. She can hardly believe Satsuki doesn’t realize as much.

“N-No, I’m actually kind of gross right now,” she tells her. It’s an excuse that isn’t entirely untrue. “I need a good shower.” Satsuki drops her arms back down to her sides, and her hands fidget awkwardly as she tries to figure out what to do with them. She registers something in Ryuko’s expression that washes a sense of culpability over her. There are too many questions there that she isn’t ready to answer quite yet.

“Of course. I’m sorry.”

* * *

 

Days go on without further mention of the incident, and the silence charges a buzz between them. Pretending that things can be forced back into regularity—however regular one might have called their relationship before—seems to be the general mode of operation. But there are small things that betray the circumstances, that prove to Ryuko she hasn't gone crazy.

When they share a moment that’s drawn on too long, Satsuki now tears their gazes apart with haste. Ryuko shies away when they sit too close together on the couch. Their hands barely brush when they work side by side in the kitchen, before jumping apart as though scalded.

Every interaction that once lit fires in her chest and bubbled warmth up to her cheeks suddenly feels draining and effortful. Ryuko finds herself mentally checking every other thing she does—never stands too close, never stares too much, tries not to indulge in needless thoughts if she can help it. In short, she tries not to fall more than she already has. And what makes it all the more frustrating is Satsuki’s non-responsiveness. She seems doubly shut down, and Ryuko can’t tell if it’s personal or if it’s to do with their relationship. She's afraid to ask.

Inevitably, Ryuko strains to center her attentions away from her sister. She gravitates towards her like it’s second nature in the beginning, but forces herself out of the habit before long. The other students she meets in her summer courses, along with frequent visits to the Mankanshokus', provide her primary mode of socialization. Mako promises not to ask too many questions, but Ryuko keeps her updated when she feels up to it. Satsuki is conveniently preoccupied with closing off her career at Revocs, so even when Ryuko ends up at home for extended periods of time, Satsuki is either nowhere to be found, or wrapped up in work behind the closed doors to her office.

The distance doesn’t actually make things any easier.

* * *

 

Satsuki knows Ryuko’s course schedule by heart, not necessarily because she meant to commit it to memory, but simply because it stuck without her much trying after she once found it lying over the kitchen counter. She also knows that Ryuko likes to walk through the park near her university. So exactly five minutes before her class is to be let out, Satsuki starts to wander through it, hoping to catch her at one point or another.

She often wishes that she had gone on to university as well, after being rid of Honnouji. But it hadn’t seemed like the logical decision at the time, not with the opportunity Revocs left hanging in the balance. She makes it a point now to read up on most every topic she has the time and interest for. Literature and corresponding reviews, academic and scientific journals, dissertations, research articles—Ryuko shares with her the access she’s given into her school’s databases. Satsuki wonders if she might be able to complete a degree once she’s gotten her new organization started up.

That train of thought goes interrupted when something suddenly collides against her leg. It makes her shift to the side, almost off the little paved path she’s following through the trees. When she looks to see what caused the disturbance, she finds only a child, fallen to the ground. She’s surprised for a second, and reaches her hand forward before pulling it back again, hesitating as to what she should do.

“Ah—I’m sorry,” she tells him quickly. “Are you alright?”

He manages to pick himself up again with a bit of uncoordinated effort. Everything seems to be in order until he catches sight of the torn skin over his kneecaps. Beginnings of tears well up in his eyes, and his lip trembles as he tries not to let himself cry.

“You’re quite strong, to have found your footing again after sustaining such an injury,” Satsuki says. “It’s a marker of your courage.”

The boy’s whining momentarily tapers off as he listens to her speak. He looks confused, not certain whether to feel captivated by or weary of this stranger. When it becomes clear that she doesn’t have much else to say, he quickly resumes his crying. Satsuki looks left and right for some indicator that a parent might be on the way, but no help comes. She sifts quickly through her bag to find a tissue, bends down to his level, and hands it to him as soon as she’s drawn it out.

“Here,” she says when he does nothing but stare at the offering. “I know it hurts, but you must wipe away your own tears.”

The boy sniffles, and extends his hand to take the tissue from her. He wipes it across his cheeks and under his nose the clumsy way children do, before handing it right back to her with a muted “thank you”, and running off in the same direction he was originally headed. Satsuki is left with a used tissue in her hand, standing alone on the path again.

“Oi, you ever talk to a kid in your life?” a familiar voice comes from behind her. Satsuki spins around.

“Ryuko.”

“Seriously, Sats,” she teases with a smile. “What the hell was that? Don't you think you should at least hang around a couple of kids, before starting up a charity for 'em?”

“What else was I supposed to do?” A soft dusting of color rises to her face at the knowledge that the interaction had been watched. “He was crying.”

“Yea, they do that sometimes.”

“Well, I think the situation was successfully handled.” She looks down at the tissue still in her hand before walking a few feet to toss it into a garbage can.

Ryuko stares at her a while, and finally asks, “What are you doing here?”

“I haven’t seen you in a while, and I thought I might catch you after class.”

“You saw me yesterday.”

She gives her a look. “Crossing each other in the hallway hardly counts.”

Ryuko walks past her, further down the path so that she can’t quite see her face. Her hands are tucked into her pockets.

“I was hoping we could get dinner together,” Satsuki says.

“Dinner?” Ryuko looks up at the sky. It’s hardly six o’clock. “Isn’t it kinda early?”

“You don’t have to make excuses if you don’t want to,” Satsuki tells her. But she gives her a small smile as she adds, “I was thinking the ramen place, though.”

Ryuko purses her lip, and stalls as though she’s giving it thought before saying, “Fine, I guess we can go.”

Satsuki rolls her eyes. “Don’t do me any favors.” She wants to tease her for being so easy to read—but stops herself when she realizes that might not go over too well.

  

The restaurant is a hole-in-the-wall kind of place that you might only ever find by chance. How it’s always bustling despite having no sign over the storefront is testament to the quality of the food and its fair pricing. When they enter, the counter that faces the kitchen at the far end of the room is packed, and about half of the small two person tables are occupied. Ryuko beelines it for one of the remaining free ones by the window. She doesn’t bother opening the menu; it’s one of her favorite places to eat out so she pretty much has it memorized at this point. 

It’s the first time they’ve had a meal face to face in weeks, and it takes a second to get used to focusing so wholly on each other again. But by the time their food arrives, the tension has managed to ebb away. Their feet slot loosely together in the small space underneath the table, never touching except for an occasional brush of the knee. The first time it happens, Ryuko rightens herself in her chair again, but when it happens a few more times still, she doesn’t make much effort to keep away.

Part of her wishes she could be angry with Satsuki for not suffering as she does. Part of her resents herself for allowing things to creep back, no different than they used to be, every time they interact. But she likes her too much. She starts to think that maybe it’s unhealthy.

“Do you think you’d like to have children, one day?” Satsuki asks her towards the end of the meal.

Ryuko, slurping up a mouthful of noodles that Satsuki considers obscenely spicy, raises an eyebrow at her. “Huh?” she says once she’s swallowed. “What made you ask that?”

“I was thinking about the little boy who ran into me at the park. And, consequently, about how good you are with kids… I don’t know, you must like their company so I wondered if you wanted any.”

“I mean, most of ‘em act like pieces of shit 24/7. But yea, I like them.” Ryuko pauses, stirs through her soup to find any last pieces of meat hiding in the broth. “It’s different, though—whether they’re someone else’s or your own.”

“So you don’t want children, then?” Satsuki asks.

Ryuko shrugs. “I don’t know. Childbirth sounds like a bitch, for one. And even if I adopt, it’s not like it isn’t more responsibility than I’m ready for. But who knows? I’m not counting it out one hundred percent, is all I’m saying.”

“I suppose that fits with the way you approach most things in life.”

“What does that mean?”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Satsuki tells her. She elaborates when she realizes Ryuko doesn’t know whether to take it as an insult or not. “It’s just the way you are, taking things as they come… You’re a very present-moment kind of person. And you tend not to rule things out too hastily; you keep your possibilities open. It’s a good thing.”

Ryuko hums in thought. She tries not to let Satsuki’s scrutiny flatter her.

“So what about you?” she asks finally. “You want kids?”

Satsuki visibly keeps herself from frowning when she answers, “I’m not sure. Motherhood seems a frightening prospect, to be perfectly honest. There are so many ways to mess up.”

“Sure, but there are also a lotta ways to not mess up.”

“I know,” Satsuki says. “It’s just how I feel. Maybe I won’t think that way someday. Maybe once I’m with the right person, it’ll only seem mildly terrifying.”

“Like, if you get married?”

“Not necessarily married. Just… in a relationship with someone who inspires me to share that sort of thing. I don’t know, really. I guess if things are at that level, there shouldn’t be any reason not to get married.”

“But?” Ryuko holds her gaze when she asks.

“But nothing. It’s something to leave to my future self, when the time comes. I don’t feel in a position to be considering those kinds of things right now. I have enough to work through personally.”

“Not the long-term planning Kiryuin Satsuki I know,” she teases lightly.

“Even I’ve learned you can’t build a rigid plan for everything. You never know who’s going to spring into your life, turn it around inexplicably.” Satsuki’s eyes flit to Ryuko’s before she looks down again. The corner of her lip quirks up for a second before settling back into a line. “It’s like that old proverb—a tree that is unbending is easily broken. A plan is only as good as its capacity to sway with the storm, when need be.”

“Am I the storm in this scenario? Cause that’s kinda badass. An unstoppable force of nature,” Ryuko smirks.

“A force of nature,” Satsuki repeats. “That’s certainly one way to put it.”

Ryuko almost makes a snappy comment back, too close to a flirt, but gets cut off when the waiter comes to their table to give them the bill. The interruption pulls her out of the moment. It seems to have grounded Satsuki, too, because her eyes aren’t smiling anymore when their gazes meet again. She grabs the check off the table and takes a few bills from her wallet to tuck them into the holder.

Once they finish paying, they both stand to find a line of people has begun stacking up by the door. It makes it hard to squeeze out of the place, and on her last step before making it to the sidewalk, Ryuko springs forward with enough force to stumble a couple of feet further than she normally would have. Her first instinct, to stop her face from smashing squarely between Satsuki’s shoulders, is to grab hold of her upper arms to steady herself instead.

Satsuki tenses as she keeps them both steady. Then, before Ryuko can even think to let her go, she jumps skittishly away from her touch and turns to face her. One of her hands comes up to cradle her own arm, exactly where Ryuko had been an instant ago.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” she apologizes quickly.

“It’s fine,” Satsuki tells her. She drops her arm, straightens her posture, but keeps the space between them greater than it needs to be.

“You okay, Sats?”

“I’m fine.” She nods almost imperceptibly as she takes a breath and repeats, “I’m fine.”

Ryuko hesitates for a second. “I was gonna go to Mako’s place right now… but we can go back home together?” she proposes. “Like, just hang out or whatever if you’re not feeling great.” Satsuki’s composed herself again at this point.

“No, it’s alright, thanks” she says. She takes a step forward, as though closing the distance might prove that everything’s in place again. “I think I need some space right now, so I’ll just see you later tonight.”

A moment of hesitation. “Okay, if you’re sure. Text me if you need anything.” Satsuki nods and watches her head towards the curb, where she parked her bike. She swings her leg over the seat, and cradles her helmet between both hands once she’s settled herself. It’s a small set of actions she’s seen her perform countless times, and its routine familiarity calms Satsuki down a bit. She hates to admit Ryuko pulls off her motorcycle look so well, because they’re dangerous and she finds their romanticization ridiculous.

“Thanks for lunch, by the way,” Ryuko says.

“My pleasure. Say hi to Mako for me.”

“Will do.” She gives her a quick thumbs up before plopping her helmet over her head. The engine hums to life, and she pushes her feet against the ground to roll the bike backwards. She pauses one last time, to wave back at Satsuki, before riding off down the street.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I hit my stride again with this chapter (‘•̀ ▽ •́ )φ  
> (and life stuff is going better! so yay)

Ryuko’s been to Satsuki’s office at Revocs headquarters only a handful of times. Apparently, their mother had the gaudiest tower built when the organization took off, but Satsuki had it demolished as soon as she filled her place. That’s not to say current headquarters isn’t impressive—a sleek building that looms easily a dozen stories over the others in the area. Ryuko has to crane her neck to look up at the windows that pan across the top floor, where Satsuki’s office takes up the entirety of the penthouse.

She walks through the sliding glass doors and into the lobby, appreciating for a second the waft of AC cooling her from the heat outside. The staff at the front desk give her a look she’s used to being on the receiving end of, as though to tell her she must have walked into the wrong place. She ignores them and heads for the elevators at the far end of the room. Just as she’s about to press her finger to the button, she stops herself, turns back around, and decides to take a seat instead at the couches in the waiting room. She doesn’t want to see Satsuki sitting in her office, behind her desk, in her business wear—putting herself through the challenge of keeping her thoughts straight isn’t necessary.

She pulls her phone from her pocket and sends Satsuki a text to let her know she’s arrived. At this point, one of the workers has mustered up the nerve to come ask her what her purpose for being in the building might be. Ryuko shoos him off bluntly, and he backs away, not without his fair share of confusion, when she tells him she’s here to pick up Satsuki. She finds it funny, that no one knows who she is. It makes her wonder why Satsuki never bothered mentioning their relation to anyone in the office.

The elevator doors slide open about five minutes later, and Satsuki steps out to meet Ryuko halfway across the lobby. She’s changed out of her work shirt, traded it for a more casual one, but still has her slacks and heels on. When she draws closer still, Ryuko notices her makeup is slightly heavier than usual, and that there are small earrings hanging just behind the hair framing her jaw. She holds herself with adult grace, and it makes Ryuko feel like they’re something more than only an odd year apart in age. The height the heels give her doesn’t help, either. Ryuko wonders why she hasn’t gotten used to the way her heart flutters when she notices small details like these.

“Sorry for the wait,” Satsuki says.

“Yea, your staff is gettin’ antsy with me loitering here,” Ryuko tells her with a jerk of her head towards the front desk. Satsuki smiles a little. “You look nice, by the way. I didn’t know this place was gonna be that fancy.”

“It’s not that upscale; I’m probably overdressed,” Satsuki assures her when she catches Ryuko eyeing her outfit, and then looking down at her own clothes. “What you’re wearing now is perfectly fine.”

“Great, ‘cause I don’t have a change of clothes with me.”

They’ve made it out of the building at this point, and just as Ryuko is about to veer off towards the parking lot, Satsuki stops her. “Hold on, I don’t want to take the car into downtown.”

“The metro?” Ryuko asks.

“Unless you want to drive through the traffic.”

“We could make it no problem on my bike. Easy to park, too.”

Satsuki looks at her like she can’t quite believe she’s being serious, lets a small smile slip through. “Too bad you only have one helmet, huh?”

“I’ll get you one, if you want,” Ryuko answers almost too enthusiastically. Satsuki snorts out a half-laugh. It’s not a “no”, Ryuko thinks.

“Come on, the metro’s this way.”

“I think you’d actually like it, once you tried it,” she goes on as she catches up to Satsuki.

“An interesting theory.”

“I’m really safe,” Ryuko pushes. “I know I do things without thinking sometimes, but when it comes to this, I’m careful about all the rules and stuff.”

Satsuki hums and it drips irony. “Ah yes, your abidance of helmet laws has historically been stellar.”

“I wear one now, don’t I?”

“I certainly hope so.”

“’Course I do,” Ryuko tells her. “Yer shifting the fucking topic, my point is that you don’t really have too much to worry about safety wise.”

“I trust your driving. Otherwise, I would have much more issue with you owning a motorcycle,” Satsuki says honestly. “I would just prefer avoiding the risk. I feel like two people to a bike would only increase the likelihood of something happening. It’s as simple as that.”

Ryuko lets out a little huff, buries her hands in her pockets like she couldn’t be any less invested in the conversation all of a sudden. “Alright, alright. The offer’s always open, though, if you change your mind.”

Satsuki glances at her out of the corner of her eye for a brief moment. “Noted.”

When they get to the threshold of the subway station a few silent minutes later, Ryuko halts and says, “You’re not gonna give ‘er one last look?” Satsuki turns around, and stares at her sister before letting her gaze focus over Revocs headquarters looming behind her.

“It’s not like I’m never going to see the building again,” she says matter-of-factly.

“C’mon, I know you must be feelin’ something right now.”

Satsuki’s expression softens. “You’re right,” she tells her. “Though I don’t imagine I’ll miss being here very much.”

-

When they get to the restaurant, the rest of the party’s already been seated. Two empty places await them on the other side of the table. Ryuko circles around it, scooting behind each of the Elites’ chairs and giving greetings in passing. Satsuki takes the chair beside Iori, so she’s left with the one right beside Nonon.

“Oi, Jakuzure,” Ryuko says quickly once she’s come up to her. “Do me a solid and switch spots, will you? I wanna sit next to Mako.”

“At least throw a please in there somewhere, you ingrate.” Not one to pass up the chance to sit next to Satsuki, though, she’s already scooted over to the next seat before finishing her sentence.

“Ryuko! And what if I wanted to sit next to Nonon?” Mako asks once Ryuko’s seated.

“Tough luck, you’re stuck with me.”

“And you can keep her,” Nonon adds.

“I don’t know what yer getting all wise about, seein’ as we’re still glued to each other.”

“Quiet down, you two,” Gamagori interrupts them from the other side of the table. “Show some consideration for Lady Satsuki. This dinner is, first and foremost, for her—not your imbecilities.”

“It’s fine, Gamagori,” Satsuki assures him. “Seeing them like this has become a sort of comfort.”

“It’s true,” Inumuta chimes in. “According to my observations, Satsuki smiles almost twice as often when Nonon and Ryuko banter. And, interestingly enough, the odds of their arguing is nearly three times higher than normal when Satsuki is around.”

“And the odds of them fighting in the first place are?” Sanageyama asks.

Inumuta looks thoughtful for a second before replying, “Just about the same as the odds of a monkey bickering with a snake.”

His analysis must be correct, because Satsuki finds herself smiling throughout the conversation as it goes on the same way—and even laughing once, when Nonon comes up with something particularly snarky. She likes to let her friends take the reigns during their gatherings. There’s something natural and entertaining about sitting back and observing their interactions, chiming in only when she feels like it, otherwise soaking in the enthusiasm they feed each other.

The only thing that feels out of place is the energy surrounding Ryuko. Normally, they would share looks when something happened to rouse up an inside joke, or stir their amusement in a way the rest of the group wouldn’t catch. She finds herself glancing up out of habit. Ryuko has her eyes decisively trained away the majority of the time, and whenever she doesn’t, she tears them away quickly. She only lets herself stare when Satsuki speaks, or when her attention isn’t fixed to her side of the table.

Appetizers and entrees roll by with hardly a single exchange between them. When the dessert menus make it around the table, Ryuko excuses herself to head to the bathroom. She just barely catches Nonon’s voice a second after turning her back to the table. “I’m gonna go, too, actually,” she says.

Ryuko only takes it as a cue to move faster to the bathroom than she already is. There’s a nook marking out a small hallway at the other end of the restaurant, and she weaves carefully between servers laden with plates to get there more quickly. She wedges the door open with her foot once she finds it. Inside are only three stalls, and a long counter with two sinks facing a wide mirror.

Paper towels are folded over neatly in woven baskets just behind the faucets. Beside them are little assortments of gum, toothpicks, packs of tissues, a few lotions, and a small circular container Ryuko can’t identify. She picks it up, tests its weight, and screws the lid off. It’s powder—there are even disposable puffs to apply it with sitting on the tray she picked it up from. _Not upscale, my ass,_ she thinks as she recalls her earlier conversation with Satsuki.

Before she can think twice on it, she’s already dabbing a puff into the powder, and a wicked idea affixes itself into her head. She waits, positioned tactically by the door, for it to swing open again. As soon as Nonon comes into view, she smashes the puff right into her face. And then swipes at her other cheek, as many times as she can manage before Nonon pushes her away.

“Fuck you! Asshole!” she growls between coughs. She tries not to breath up the fumes left in the air around her as she paws at her face. She shoves Ryuko again for good measure, making sure to streak powder over her shirt in the process. “What the fuck’s your problem? What if someone else had walked in?”

The fact that Ryuko’s desperately trying to constrain her laughter to an appropriate volume makes it hard to answer. “Relax, I was just messin’ around,” she manages eventually. “Look at yer face, man.” She almost snorts at the end of that sentence. Nonon turns towards the mirror, and can’t help but pout.

“You’re a comedic genius,” she snarls. “A mastermind.”

“Hey, it was all self defense. Saw you following me into the bathroom like some kinda creep.”

“I wanted to talk to you, shithead.”

Ryuko raises an eyebrow. “Yea? Well, can you save it for another 30 seconds? I gotta pee.”

“Be my guest, Matoi. I need to wash off all this crap you caked onto my face, anyway.”

She turns the tap on as Ryuko disappears into one of the stalls. She rinses her hands, and then grabs a wad of paper towels to swipe beneath the running water. It does the trick well enough when she uses it to wipe her cheeks.

“I better not look splotchy when I walk back out,” she says beneath her breath. The stall slams open behind her again. Ryuko walks out and takes the sink beside Nonon’s to wash her hands.

“So, what did you wanna tell me that’s so important you had to tail me into the bathroom?” she asks, looking down at the soap bubbles accumulating between her fingers. “If you want an autograph, I don’t have a pen on me right now so you’re outta luck.”

“I’m heartbroken.” Nonon stops to flick the water in her direction. Ryuko lets out a reflexive “Ow!” and scrunches her face when then droplets hit her. “I wanted to ask you to stop acting so weird.”

“Weird?” Ryuko repeats. “What’d I do?”

She shrugs, looks at her through the mirror. A few seconds of silence tick by. “What’s going on with you and Satsuki?”

“What do you mean, what’s going on?”

“You guys have been acting different lately,” Nonon tells her. “I don’t know… I noticed only tonight, because the vibes have been off, but it’s been a little while since I’ve even seen you in the same place together.”

“We’ve both been busy. School and stuff. All the shit with Revocs.”

Nonon, unconvinced, narrows her eyes and makes a short humming sound. “I’ve been sandwiched between the two of you for an hour and half, and let me tell you, the tension’s so thick I thought I was going to suffocate. And it’s not a good kind of tension, either. It’s like… awkward.”

“Listen, you and Sats are best friends, right?” Ryuko asks her. She’s toweling off her hands, lobbing the wet bits of paper into the garbage can beneath the counter. “Why dontcha talk to her about it, instead of me?”

Nonon socks her against the arm. “You’re my friend too, dipshit. Whether we willed it or not.”

“Gee, thanks, I’m honored,” she says, rubbing at the sore spot the impact has left behind.

“Are you guys ok, at least?”

Ryuko shrugs. “Yea, we’re fine. I dunno, we had a tiny argument but it’s not a big deal.”

“You don’t sound too convinced,” she tells her. “I know Satsuki hasn’t been doing that great lately… is whatever’s going on between you contributing, you think?”

“What do you mean, she hasn’t been doing that great?” Ryuko asks. Nonon doesn’t hide the look of genuine surprise on her face.

“What the fuck, are you guys even talking? You usually know this stuff way before I do.”

“W-We are talking,” she protests. “I just haven’t had the chance to ask her about that kinda stuff lately.”

“You’re a shitty liar, Matoi.”

“Did she mention it had to do with me? Did she talk about me?”

“No, nothing beyond the usual,” Nonon admits. “It’s her same stuff, you know. It’s been coming and going in waves since two years ago. She doesn’t like talking about it with me, so it’s easier to pick up on the physical signs. Her behavior and stuff.”

“Yea, tell me about it. I don’t think she likes talking about it to anyone.”

They’re silent for a minute. Ryuko’s leaning back against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, looking down at her feet. She chews against her bottom lip as she thinks.

“How have you been, then?” Nonon asks her eventually. “I don’t know what this thing between you two is all about, but I’m here if you need anything.”

A barely-there smile finds its way to Ryuko’s lips. “Thanks for the concern, but I don’t think there’s much to do. I’m alright, we’ll get over it.”

“It sucks to see you guys like this,” she admits. “I give you a hard time… but I know you make her happy.”

“I’m sorry,” Ryuko apologizes. “I honestly didn’t think it’d get bad enough to be noticeable.”

“You asked to switch seats with me.”

“I know, I know. I thought it would be worse if we sat next to each other.”

“So you have been avoiding her lately, then?”

“I guess so,” she admits. “I kinda don’t wanna talk about it, honestly. If you wanna ask Satsuki what happened, you can. She can tell you at her discretion.”

“Alright, I get it. I’ll stop bugging you. Just try not to act so tense the rest of the meal.” She turns around to reach for the door handle. Just as she’s about to swing it open, Ryuko’s hand comes down against it to slam it shut again.

“What?” Nonon asks. “They’re gonna wonder what’s taking us so damn long.”

“I, uh, I just—” Ryuko has a hard time finding words; her cheeks grow red. Nonon gives her a deadpan stare. “Just thanks, Jakuzure. Not just for checkin’ in and whatever, but like, for being there for Sats while I’ve been actin’ sorta shitty and self centered lately.”

“You’re fine, you loser,” Nonon says, with just enough edge off her usual bite that Ryuko knows she’s successfully relayed the sentiment. "And I'm always there for her, for the record." She bats her hand off the door, and opens it without interruption this time. “C’mon, let’s go.”

If anyone at the table noticed their prolonged disappearance, it isn’t mentioned when they return. Ryuko takes Nonon’s advice to heart and unwinds as best she can for the remainder of the meal. She lets herself stand close to Satsuki again when they all stand up to leave. The party splits up once they’re outside; Nonon goes to her car with Inumuta and Iori in tow, while Gamagori leads the rest into his own car. They each offer the sisters a ride, but Satsuki insists it isn’t necessary for them to go out of their way to accommodate them.

Ryuko thinks she sees Nonon give her a look through the window when her car drives by where they’re walking along the sidewalk. It makes her hyperaware of Satsuki again.

“Did you have fun?” she asks, if only for the sake of making conversation. Satsuki smiles softly.

“Yes, I did. Today feels like a fresh start.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

Satsuki turns to look at her. “Did you enjoy yourself as well?”

Ryuko nods. “It was nice. I like all those guys.”

“You seem to be getting along better with Nonon lately.”

“Yea, I guess so,” Ryuko says. “Though it’s like you said, I think we always sort of did get along, in our own way.”

“You’re more civil, now.”

“Probably.” She pauses to collect her thoughts, looks up at the delineation of city buildings against the nearly darkened sky. There are almost too many people in the streets to walk comfortably side by side. A car with a noisy engine drives by, and she waits for it to pass before speaking again. “She’s actually a really good person.”

“I know.” Satsuki sounds amused. “She’s very reliable.”

“Aren’t most of the Elite, though?”

“They stopped being the Elite a long time ago. But yes, I guess so. I like to think it’s because they’re good friends, though, and not because they feel it’s an obligation.”

“That’s not what I was implyin’,” Ryuko tells her. “I just call ‘em that out of habit. Easier to talk about them all at the same time. I meant that you’re lucky, is all.”

“I am,” Satsuki says. “And I’m lucky to have you, too. I don’t think I say so enough.”

“Y-You don’t hafta say it,” Ryuko answers eventually, scratching at the back of her head. “I know you think it.”

“I just mean this is a big step for me—and I was thinking all throughout dinner, that it would have been really hard to make it this far without all of you.”

Ryuko nudges her in the side with her elbow. “You woulda made it alright either way. You’re Kiryuin Satsuki, right?”

“I said it would have been hard, not impossible,” she replies with a smirk. Ryuko lets out a half-hearted sigh—faking irritation.

“Right, and here I was, worried your ego had gone and fallen off.”

They step into the metro station and it becomes too crowded to continue having a proper conversation. It’s late on a Friday evening, so anything less shouldn’t have been expected. The air underground is warm, and there are so many people on the platform that a general smell of sweat hangs around without any way to circulate. Satsuki and Ryuko hang back beside a pillar, where it’s a bit less packed.

The train comes in four minutes later. Bodies scurry and scatter around to get in and out of cars, pushing and shoving every which way. A distinct chiming sound announces the doors about to close again just as they make their way through. Ryuko tries to scoot in further down the car and away from the door, but it’s so full that they don’t end up moving very far. She finds herself trapped between Satsuki and a stranger’s back. It all feels too small. She could share the bar her sister’s holding onto, but opts instead for gripping the slightly-out-of-reach handle above her head to give her some space. The subway map plastered over the wall right in front of her tells her they only have three stops to go.

When the train starts up again, it staggers back and forth with just enough force that Ryuko loses her footing. She holds on firmly to the handle, but it doesn’t stop her from swaying in the opposite direction. Before she can teeter against the man behind her, a steady hand at her arm helps her find her balance. Ryuko ends up stepping over Satsuki’s foot in the process.

“Sorry,” she mutters as she tries to reinstate the distance between them.

“Hold on here,” Satsuki tells her, gesturing at the bar she’s holding. Ryuko shifts over in time for the next stop, at which point more people squeeze into the car. The small space she had been standing in a second before is quickly filled.

Satsuki shifts backwards to offer her more room, but Ryuko hesitates to take it. They’re already standing nearly toe-to-toe, and when their feet bump again she mumbles out another apology.

“You’re fine,” Satsuki says quietly, so that she can barely hear it. She takes her arm again and pulls her another inch forward. Ryuko’s pulse thrums in her ears, when she stands close enough now to smell what’s left of the perfume over her neck, when she can feel her breath close against her ear. She curses the fact that her eyes seem to be almost naturally level with Satsuki’s lips.

She tries to understand how it was possible for things not to be this hard in the past. They’ve stood this close, and even closer still, before her screw up on their vacation. She’s held Satsuki in her sleep, and let her run her fingers through her hair, and held her hand, and kissed her cheek—and all the infinitely small things they shared now seem barely comprehensible in light of the fact that it’s so difficult to stand within half a foot of each other. _Maybe you’re the only one it’s hard for_ , she thinks.

Her train of thought comes to a halt when Satsuki’s hand, wrapped around the bar beside her own, slides the slightest bit over to bump their fingers together. Ryuko automatically readjusts her grip, but when Satsuki doesn’t pull away, she lets her hand rest right back where it was. Her throat feels tight when she swallows.

She doesn’t manage to look up at Satsuki’s face for a while, but when she does, she finds her cheeks have taken on a soft hue of pink. It could be just as well due to the heat in the car as anything else. By the time they make it to their stop, one of Satsuki’s fingers has scooted over to overlap with Ryuko’s—lightly enough that it might seem as though it had fallen there on accident. Like it’s perfectly easy and natural, even though the single point of contact monopolizes their attention entirely.

They pull apart as soon as the car jerks to a stop where they need to get off. It only becomes easy to breathe again once they step out of the station altogether. The night air is cool, and Ryuko’s glad she chose to bring her jacket with her, even though she didn’t imagine she’d need it. She’s about to slip it on when she realizes Satsuki doesn’t have one on hand.

“I’m not really cold,” she tells her. “If you, er—if you want mine.” She extends her arm halfway in offering, not confident as to what Satsuki’s response might be.

“I’ll take it, if you’re sure,” she says after a second of thought. Ryuko lets her pull it from her, and watches as she twists it to rest gently over her shoulders. She readjusts the fabric after slipping her arms through.

“The sleeves are a bit short,” Satsuki observes and she tries to see how far down the cuffs will go.

“Not _that_ short,” Ryuko insists. It makes Satsuki smile.

“You’re right, not that short. Thank you.”

Ryuko likes the way she looks in the battered thing. The business wear she has on beneath makes for an odd coupling, and the sleeves do come up just short of her wrists, but it does the trick. It’s worth being cold the rest of the walk to the parking lot.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this could have been stretched out another thousand words or so but I really wanted to put it out so here it is
> 
> (also my semester is already shaping up to be busier than I thought—take it as an advanced warning for a very likely drop in update rate)

The first Saturday of June is uncharacteristic for a few reasons. The weather, for one, hasn’t yet given any indication of turning to the rainy season, and what should have been the start of a dreary weekend turns out bright and sunny. Second is the fact that Ryuko wakes up at 8:30 in the morning without being able to fall back to sleep. And even more unexpected still is Satsuki’s sleeping in past nine o’clock. It’s at that point that Ryuko decides to take her sister’s car out to run a few errands—they were supposed to go together, but she hopes to make the trip there and back before Satsuki gets out of bed, to surprise her with one less thing to do. But when she pulls back into the driveway again two hours later, she isn’t all that shocked that it takes less than a minute for Satsuki to step out the door.

She walks down the front steps and towards the car. She must have woken only semi-recently, because she’s not dressed yet—or at least not dressed to leave the house. She has on a tank top and sweats. Ryuko wonders how she can stand to wear the latter what with the muggy heat outside.

“You went without me,” she says. She punctuates her sentence by biting a chunk off an apple she’s holding.

Ryuko slams the car door shut and moves around towards the back. She’s wearing a crop top, which might very well have been a regular shirt that shrunk in the wash at some point, and a pair of shorts. She already feels like she’s started sweating in the time it takes for her to get the trunk open.

“Yea, figured I’d surprise ya by havin’ it done,” Ryuko tells her. “You slept in, for once.”

Satsuki hums as she continues chewing on her apple. She circles the car to join Ryuko. “Do you think you’ve forgotten anything?”

“Nope, even grabbed that list you left lyin’ around on the table, just to make sure,” she assures her. Satsuki eyes what’s lying in the trunk for a second before something propped up on the side catches her attention.

“Really, Ryuko? This was on the shopping list, too, was it?” She pulls out a long metal rod, careful not to hit herself, the car, or her sister in the process. “Don’t tell me you bought a barbell.”

“What’s wrong with a barbell? Not like it’s out of our budget range.”

“It’s completely unnecessary.”

“You’re just scared I’ll be able to lift more than you,” Ryuko teases. Satsuki raises an eyebrow at her, and rips another chunk out of her apple.

“We’re setting up a home gym, not an Olympic training facility. Did you happen to buy curling stones, too?”

“Oi, I got everything you had on yer list, so give me a break.” She leans into the car, with her thighs pressed against the bumper to brace her weight, and pulls forward a couple stacks of plates.

“You better use it,” Satsuki tells her. “And properly, too. I don’t want to drive you to the ER because you’ve dropped it over your foot, or broken your thumbs.”

“Please,” Ryuko sneers. She brings her arms up and makes a point of flexing. “With these guns, and life fibers to boot—not a chance.”

She’s expecting an eye roll, but receives the biggest deadpan stare of the century instead. Satsuki pulls one of the plate piles towards her, and places her half-eaten apple onto the hood of the car before reaching carefully to lift the stack up. “Grab the other one,” she says as she walks back towards the house.

Ryuko follows behind with the other set of plates, and waits for Satsuki to get down most of the stairs to the basement before heading down herself. They lay the weights down against the matt they had installed recently, when Satsuki arranged for the contractors to finish renovating the space.

They go back to the car and make a couple more trips to move everything out. There are dumbbells, a pull up bar to affix to the wall, a plyo box, resistance bands—everything they had talked about getting beforehand. The huge red boom box Satsuki finds once they’ve cleared the rest away is another unexpected item. When questioned, Ryuko simply replies, “I gotta be able to jam while I’m working out.” It seems to be explanation enough.

“The big equipment should be coming in next week,” Satsuki tells her once they’ve made their final trip into the house. “I got confirmation on the order.”

“And then we’ll never have to visit a gym again.”

“Not that we went particularly often,” Satsuki points out. “A gym isn’t all that necessary for good cardio and basic strength training.”

Ryuko paces around the basement, props one foot up on the plyo box as she looks around the room, imagining what it’ll look like when everything’s been moved in. “We’ll be able to work out together more often now,” she says. “And maybe I’ll keep up a stricter schedule, like yours.”

“Our schedules still might not overlap. But it’s a good idea. I could help even out your routine.”

“My routine’s just fine, thanks,” Ryuko says. “It’s finding the time to do it that I’m not always good at.”

Satsuki bridges the space between them with a few short strides, so that they’re standing face to face. “I’m not so sure about that,” she tells her. “How’s your endurance, when we go on runs together?”

“It’s perfectly fine. Plus I’d rather focus on lifting and stuff. Strengthening.”

“In that case, your core might benefit from some work,” Satsuki teases. She reaches to graze her fingertips over Ryuko’s belly, where her shirt leaves her skin exposed, and prods playfully to test the muscle there. Involuntarily or not, Ryuko tenses.

“Cut it out it tickles,” she says in one breath, crossing her arm over her stomach to block any further poking. Heat colors the tips of her ears.

Satsuki hums, and her eyes are alight with amusement. “My apologies.”

“C’mon, we’re done down here,” Ryuko tells her after a second. She’s suddenly eager to get moving upstairs, to put some distance between them. But when they reach the stairs, she can’t stop herself from adding, “And for the record, I wasn’t flexing.”

“Never said you were.”

“Right, I’m just sayin’.”

 

The rest of the day flies by, and Ryuko spends it lazily. Despite having woken up early, she finds herself wide awake when night hits, and gives up entirely on going to bed at a reasonable hour. Around three in the morning, she lies splayed out on the couch downstairs, reading a book. With Satsuki asleep, no TV background noise, and all lights but the one she reads by turned off, the house feels eerily still. The clock that hangs by the kitchen ticks on just softly enough not to bother her much. She usually listens to music when she’s alone and it’s quiet, but it isn’t always easy to focus with it on. The scratching sound of her flipping pages every couple of minutes fills the silence instead. 

It’s why she catches the slightest creaking of floorboards the instant Satsuki steps out into the hallway one floor up. Her eyes keep scanning the lines of the passage she’s reading as she listens to the footsteps headed down the stairs, but she doesn’t register the words there whatsoever. When Satsuki makes it into the room, she looks up from her page as though she’s only just noticed her presence.

Her eyes are bleary, her posture is tight, and her voice is breathy with exhaustion when she says, “Hey.” She clears it at once.

“Hey,” Ryuko says back. She drops her book to her lap, and folds up her legs to free some space on the couch. Satsuki takes the invitation and sits right beside her.

“I was going to say that I’m surprised to find you down here, but I think I’ll revise that statement and say that I’m surprised to find you down here and _reading_ ,” she tells her with a barely-there nod towards the book in her lap. Ryuko lifts it, inspects the jacket like it’s the first time she’s given it any attention, and then lets it drop next to her on the couch.

“I’ve been feelin’ in that kinda mood lately,” she says with a shrug. Her own voice sounds loud in the room, so she makes a point of lowering her volume when she continues. “It’s not on the same level as the stuff you like, though. I picked it up ‘cause of Blade Runner to be honest.”

Satsuki blinks a couple of times, like she’s trying to wake herself up, or keep from falling back to sleep. “Sure, some things are harder to read than others, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t all worth looking into. It’s a good read.”

“You’ve read it, then?”

“Isn’t that my copy?” she asks, eyeing the closed book.

“Nah, I picked it up at the library.” She turns it over to show her the little laminated tag pasted over the bottom corner. “At school.”

Satsuki hums and leans her head back against the couch. Her breathing is deep, but not slow enough to really be relaxed.

“You don’t hafta make conversation, y’know,” Ryuko says after half a dozen ticks of the clock hanging in the kitchen have gone by. “If yer tired, or… just wanna sit or whatever.”

“I know.”

“Ok.”

A few more seconds pass.

“Is there anything I can do?” Ryuko asks. She receives a small shake of the head in response.

“Keep reading,” Satsuki tells her. “I want to sit here while you read.”

Ryuko nods and opens the book again to find her page. She crosses her legs, adjusts herself now that she has to share the couch, and finally goes still once she’s comfortable. She can feel Satsuki’s gaze pointed in her direction, but isn’t sure if she’s being stared at, or if it’s her book she’s become captivated with.

It turns out to be the former.

“Stop worrying at your lip like that,” Satsuki tells her.

“Huh?”

“Your lip. You’re chewing on it."

“Oh,” Ryuko says, licking her lips now that her attention has been turned on them. “Sorry." 

“Do you know you do it?” she asks.

“I guess so. I dunno, sometimes I can’t help it, it just happens.”

“It happens when you’re focused on something. Or thinking hard.”

Ryuko tries a small smile. “The counterpart to that thing you do with yer eyebrows.”

“Must be,” Satsuki says softly.

Ryuko ruffles the pages of her book with the tip of her index finger, which she drags along their corners. Satsuki’s brought her feet up over the couch cushion in a very uncharacteristic manner, and drawn her knees into her chest. “I was going to make myself some tea. Would you like anything while I’m up?” she asks.

“No,” Ryuko says. She waits for Satsuki to stand, but she doesn’t.

Her expression must give away the question she’s about to ask, because Satsuki answers before she can voice it, “I’ll go in a minute.”

“Are you ok, Sats?”

“Missing sleep, is all.”

Ryuko makes a small grunting sound. “Jakuzure mentioned you had a lot on your mind lately.”

“There’s that,” Satsuki sighs. “I also don’t think I should have slept in so late today, especially since it’s typically so difficult for me to fall asleep in the first place.”

“You could do a lot worse than ten,” Ryuko tells her. The smile in her voice fades away when she asks, “So it’s been bad lately?”

“It’s all relative, really.” The silence that ensues prompts her to pick up the thought. “But I guess it’s been a bit worse than the usual.”

“For how long?”

“How long, what?”

“Like, how many days in succession? The sleep, the nightmares, all that stuff.”

Satsuki suddenly finds her own toes fascinating. She plays with her pinkies until she feels ready to answer. “A few weeks, probably. About a month.”

Ryuko doesn’t need to count back and dig through memories to know that their vacation was just about four weeks ago. She’s surprised to find self-directed anger overwhelming the guilt already settled at the pit of her stomach. Satsuki always undersells the hurt she’s going through. One month is a long time—she’s had periods that long before, and Ryuko knows what they look like. Only these past weeks haven’t been a thing like that, and she suddenly understands that it must have seemed that way because Satsuki was working doubly hard to keep it from her. A worse alternative is that she’s been too caught up in her own head, in her own perverse heartbreak, to notice.

“I’ll be right back,” Satsuki’s voice drags her away from her mess of thoughts. It only encourages them to come back twice as strong, when the space where she was sitting is empty again.

Some time later, she comes back with an empty cup in one hand and the kettle in the other. Ryuko watches the smooth stream of tea fall from the spout as Satsuki pours. She looks tired, stressed, and her hair is slightly messy from what little sleep she got between now and whenever it was she got to bed. Even so, Ryuko thinks she looks beautiful, and retains her grace. She wonders how much of the way Satsuki moves has to do with growing up on strict etiquette, and how much of it would have stayed the same even if their lives had been reversed.

Ryuko realizes, as Satsuki’s weight dips into the couch with hers, that she’s been staring for a while. “Thanks for the company,” Satsuki tells her after taking a sip. She then scoots the slightest bit closer. “Do you mind if I read along a little?”

“Sure, I guess.” Ryuko picks the book back up and flips it open to the page she left off at. Having someone read over her should is something she normally finds aggravating, but the quiet it leads to in this moment feels intimate. Satsuki isn’t committed to the book. She scans the lines she can see—which, Ryuko realizes, must be either a fairly limited or nonexistent number, because she isn’t wearing her glasses—and when she gets tired of doing so, sips at the cup she cradles between her hands.

As soon as it’s finished, she leans out of her seat to place it on the table, and settles right back against the couch empty handed. She comes up close to Ryuko, uses her shoulder for a pillow, keeping her hands tucked against herself. The more time goes on, the more she relaxes, and the harder Ryuko finds it to focus on reading with her thoughts buzzing. It takes her more than one minute to move on from a single paragraph, and even then, she isn’t sure all the words have stuck with her.

Satsuki readjusts her position a few times when her head bobs out of balance, and eventually Ryuko pushes her gently off. She shifts back against the corner of the couch, closer to the position she was in before Satsuki came downstairs, and opens out her arm to invite Satsuki in. “C’mere,” she tells her.

Satsuki scoots over and stops short of resting on her again to reassess the arrangement. “Move your feet up?” Ryuko does so, kicks her legs up over the couch, and makes room for Satsuki to fit between them. She turns around to lean against Ryuko’s chest, and nestles the back of her head into the little pocket of space between her shoulder and collarbone.

“Hold on, let me get rid of this,” Ryuko says before they can settle too comfortably. She leans over to balance the book over the edge of the closest surface within reach. Half of it is left hanging precariously in the air.

“You can keep reading.”

“Nah, I was kinda starting to zone out anyway.” It had become more of an excuse for a distraction than anything else. She brings her arms back, and hesitates as to where she should let them fall again. She narrates as she moves, “I’m gonna just, put my arms around…” It comes out almost a question. Satsuki shifts her own arms and guides her with her hands, to encourage her to hold on.

Ryuko is sure Satsuki must be able to feel the thudding of her heart against her back. She takes a few breaths, hopefully not deep enough to be too noticeable, in an effort to steady herself again. It’s been a while since they’ve been this close—and it’s sad, really, that it takes moments like these to serve as an excuse for intimacy. The smell of Satsuki fills her nose, and she resists the temptation of bringing her face forward to nuzzle against her hair.

“Tell me if you’re not comfortable,” Satsuki tells her. The way she says it, Ryuko knows she doesn’t just mean physically. She nods, and trusts that Satsuki can feel the movement of her head behind her. A tightness flutters in her belly, and her palms slicken the slightest bit when Satsuki plays their fingers together absentmindedly.

The entire arrangement has her surprised. Satsuki is rarely ever this forward about asking for contact, but the tension in her posture from before seeps away the longer they stay pressed together. Ryuko thinks back to moments when she’s elicited the completely opposite reaction, driven Satsuki on edge, made her jump away with a misplaced touch.

“How do I know when it’s ok to do this?” Ryuko asks, so quietly Satsuki wouldn’t have caught it if her ear weren’t so close to her lips. She emphasizes her question by drawing her tighter into her chest for an instant. “That I won’t scare you.”

“You don’t scare me,” she assures her. “I trust you.”

Ryuko can feel her thinking, and lets the silence drag on so she can stew on whatever’s running through her mind in peace. They’re both less relaxed than they were a few minutes ago, before Ryuko brought the subject up. Satsuki’s taken one of Ryuko’s hands in her own, and with the other, traces along her knuckles, moving from finger to finger until she runs out of fingers to trace.

“I’ll always tell you, if it’s not alright,” she says eventually. “But, I mean…” She pauses, and worries at Ryuko’s hands so much that Ryuko has to pull them away, and readjust them to stop her. “I don’t know… unexpected touches, those kinds of things… sudden things. Things I—things that are hard to anticipate.”

“Ok,” Ryuko tells her. She holds her hand and uses her thumb to sooth the back of it, to let her know she’s here, and that she doesn’t need to keep on talking if she doesn’t want to.

“Or when…” she continues. “When I wake at times like these. It’s only unsettling until I’ve regained my bearings a bit.”

“Ok,” Ryuko repeats. She swallows, and tries to find the right words to respond with. “It’s helpful, knowing this stuff. Thank you.”

“Everything else is fine,” Satsuki goes on softly. “This is fine. More than fine.” She lifts Ryuko’s arms and crisscrosses them so that they’re wrapped around her shoulders. Ryuko squeezes her more tightly, like she’ll be able to press all of her affection into her if she holds her hard enough.

When she loosens her grip again, she lets her cheek rest over Satsuki’s head, and stays there a long while. She listens to their breathing and how it falls in and out of sync. She looks at the shadow of their bodies the lamp behind them casts against the floor. She smells her sister’s smell, warm and sleepy. Her hair tickles her nose when she breathes against her. And she focuses on all the points they touch together—like she’s performing one of those meditation exercises that have you noticing the placement of your body, and how it’s anchored to the world.

“I’m sorry, Sats,” she says against her hair. She finds Satsuki’s hands again, lets their fingers run across each other like she’s about to wedge them together, but doesn’t. “For not really being around lately.”

Satsuki makes a huffing noise through her nose. “You’re apologizing for failing to do something I gave no indication of needing—” she stops to correct herself, “wanting from you.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m still tellin’ you I wish I’d been there more.”

Satsuki straightens herself from where she’s slid a bit down Ryuko’s chest, and Ryuko thinks for a second that she’s going to turn around to look at her, but she doesn’t. Satsuki touches the side of her leg lightly once she’s settled, and leaves it to rest there. It tickles her slightly, but she finds the willpower to keep still.

“You’re here now,” Satsuki tells her.

“And not leavin’, either. Unless you want me to.” She means for it to sound closer to joking than serious, but isn’t quite sure she’s struck that balance.

“Well, I’d be hard pressed to ask you to leave now. You make a fairly good pillow.”

“Fairly good? What’s that, three stars outta five?”

“Maybe four, on a good day,” Satsuki tells her. Ryuko can tell she’s fighting off a smile, and pinches her softly on the side. Satsuki jerks slightly in her arms—not startled, but ludic. “You know I’m not ticklish.”

“That’s a damn lie.”

“You’re invited to prove me otherwise.”

Ryuko feels her face burn but quickly shakes her head clear of indecent thoughts. “Everyone’s a little bit ticklish,” she insists without following up. Satsuki, though, takes the opportunity to spider her fingers outwards over Ryuko’s kneecap. She almost squeaks, and barely keeps her leg from twitching.

“At least a little bit, yes,” she says, satisfied with the response she elicited.

“Don’t be a bully about it,” Ryuko complains as she grabs Satsuki by the wrist to pull her hand away. She lets their arms rest over each other again, and they sit quietly once more, with the tension between them somewhat less heavy than before.

“I’ve missed you,” Satsuki admits casually.

It catches Ryuko by surprise, makes her heart swell, and she answers after a pause, “Yea, me too.” She sounds timid by comparison.

“I know it isn’t fair, but…” Satsuki stalls as instant, thinking exactly on what it is she’s going to say, before continuing. “Thank you for showing me patience.”

Ryuko knows the sentence never would have been uttered under different circumstances. There’s something about the quiet in the room, the gentle lighting, the early morning stillness that makes restraint fade away. And it’s spoken so softly it might just as well have been Ryuko’s imagination. It’s a sentence that will keep her awake at night for weeks to come. For the moment, she lets it live and die, and buries it in the corner of her mind for later unearthing.

She lets out a small hum for Satsuki to take any which way she pleases, and finally presses her nose to the back of her head. She nuzzles her there and closes her eyes. It feels like hiding away. Something that could have been a shiver shakes Satsuki for an instant, but then she stills and relaxes once more.

When they’re both close to sleep, Satsuki pulls away once, only briefly, to reach for a blanket draped over the other end of the couch. She stretches it over their bodies, and they hold onto each other that night as they sleep.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for brief violence, tremendous chapter length, and probably a bunch of real-world inaccuracies

Ryuko’s last class of the week is on Thursdays, in one of the lecture halls farthest from the center of campus. As soon as it ends, she takes the stairs down to the building’s back exit, and makes her way across the staff parking lot it spits her out to. There’s a wall about five feet high baring it off from the street on the other side. She scales it easily, and rests there to look down over the hill and onto the park just a short ways away. This part of the road that she’s sitting by, it curves gently inwards, so she can’t see her bike parked one block down. She left it there intentionally—doesn’t want it to get smashed by someone driving around the bend too quickly.

The streets are narrow here. It’s a principally residential neighborhood, tranquil for when she wants time to herself after class before heading home. There are a few people in her program she gets along with, and she spends evenings with them here and there whenever she’s in the mood. But today she prefers the company of familiar rooftops, the setting sun, and the cat that mirrors her on the wall opposite her side of the street. She’s never seen him do anything but sit in that exact spot since she started coming here. His ears twitch when she calls out to him, but then his eyes slowly lid shut, as though he hasn’t heard a thing. _Asshole_ , she thinks.

She draws her attention away from the cat, and it’s then that she notices a car, familiar and unfamiliar at once, parked at the mouth of the side street just off to her left. It’s a police car. She’s never liked cops. Or any kind of public authority figure, for that matter. The presence of these two officers in particular—she can make their forms out vaguely through the windshield—unsettles her more than she likes. She feels watched.

She crosses her feet, bends her ankles to feel the knife she has tucked into her right shoe pressing harder against her skin. Maybe it’s a bad habit, but it’s one she hasn’t been able to break since late middle school. Better safe than sorry, is her rationale. But the comfort it usually provides is replaced by a wearing on her nerves when she remembers that its blade breaks carry laws by a good few centimeters. She can’t imagine why they’d search her, though.

When she hops off the wall, she makes sure to do so as casually as possible—no shifty movements, nothing too quick—and then readjusts her bag over her shoulder before walking in the opposite direction. She’s mindful of her pace the entire way, counts her steps and measures her strides. She hears the car moving behind her and prays it’s going to keep rolling by, but it pulls up to park along the sidewalk a few feet ahead of her. Her stomach sinks when they both step out of the car.

The first man, the driver, is so lanky his shoulders don’t quite fill out his uniform. He’s of a certain age, with a shaved head shaped like an egg, and a coarse mustache that brooms out over his upper lip. His partner is a young man, unremarkable in every sense imaginable. The kind of person Ryuko might figure that mangaka model their cookie cutter background characters off of.

“We need to ask you some questions,” the first says, curt and to the point, with nothing else to preface the interaction. The way he stands to block her path suggests there isn’t much room for negotiation.    

“Sure.” _Just be polite_ , she tells herself. These kinds of situations don’t have to escalate. She hasn’t done anything to warrant getting stopped.

“You live in the area?”

“No,” she tells him, and then quickly adds, “Sir.” He stares straight through her as though she hasn’t spoken at all, so she continues, “I’m a student. Just got outta class.”

“Your ID card?” he asks as he extends his hand towards her. Ryuko automatically reaches for her wallet tucked into the back left pocket of her jeans. She pauses short of drawing it out.

“Could I ask what this is about?”

“Your ID,” he insists. Ryuko opens her wallet—thin, beaten, leather, with a faded sticker over the front—and hands him her student ID. He hardly glances at it before reaching for the wallet still in her hand, and studying her driver’s license. He looks through the bill pocket before giving it back to her and asks, “What were you doing loitering on this street?”

Ryuko makes an effort not to bristle. The condescension in his voice is familiar, and it makes anger bubble beneath her skin. She hasn’t dealt with too many cops before, given that most her past misbehaviors were either handled through school or not at all, but she decides this one is probably more of an ass than most. “I was just sittin’ and looking at the view. Didn’t know there was a law against that, Sir.”

“Got a smart mouth on our hands,” the second officer speaks for the first time. “We already have reasonable cause to suspect you, kid. So keep on digging your own grave with that attitude.”

“Reasonable cause?” Ryuko repeats. “What for?”

“We’re not obliged to disclose that information,” he tells her. Ryuko is about to open her mouth again to add her piece, but the older cop cuts her off before she can say something without thinking. She’s silently thankful for it.

“Do you mind if we take a look at your bag?” he asks, pointing at it with a jerk of his chin.

Ryuko’s fist tightens around the strap and she has to swallow before speaking. “Do you have a warrant?” The officer’s mustache twitches violently for the briefest of instants.

“You have something to hide?” he retaliates.

“No, but—”

“Search it, will you?” he tells his partner. The officer steps closer to her and starts to reach for the bag. She’s sure this must be in violation of her rights, and suddenly wishes she were the sort of person who read up on these kinds of things.

“I’m not consenting to a search,” she says, taking a step back. That sounds like the right choice of words.

The cop sighs. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. If you really don’t have anything to hide, show us the bag, and you’ll be on your way in five minutes.”

“If you don’t have any more questions I can help with, Sir, then I’ll just be on my way now.”

She makes eye contact with the first cop, the one in charge, for several seconds. Despite his thin frame he does make a threatening figure—it’s in his stance, the way his feet are wide apart, and the way he pushes out his chest. The look he gives her dares her to walk away.

She tries to do so and fails when he reaches to pull her back by the shoulder. “We’ll keep at it until nightfall if we have to,” he says. “Now, the bag, please.” Ryuko hesitates, does a quick mental run through of the things she’s carrying with her today. She’s thumbing at the strap over her shoulder. The younger officer takes it as indication that she’s about to hand it over, and twists it away from where it rests.

“Oi—” She’s stopped mid-step when the mustached man’s arm extends before her, barring her from reaching for her bag. She holds her tongue as she watches the zippers come undone.

He searches the small pockets in front first, and then moves on to the ones a size up. She knows what it is that’s going to cause her trouble before he even pulls it out. It’s her pipe—made of pretty red glass, brought in from somewhere out west, that she managed to strike a fair deal for—and he holds it up for his partner to see. By the look on his face, you’d sooner guess he’d just found the winning numbers for next week’s lottery.

Ryuko doesn’t say anything in her defense. She doesn’t need to—it’s a glass pipe, nothing more. Certainly it isn’t incriminating on its own.

“Keep looking,” the cop beside her says. She watches as her bag quickly gets turned inside out. Notebooks, pens, extra clothes, gum, loose change—almost everything gets thrown out onto the sidewalk. Once the bag is emptied, save for her laptop, all of its contents are uncaringly shoved back in. Ryuko tries not to look too upset at the deliberate mistreatment of her belongings.

“Alright, hands against the car,” the mustached one barks. “Let’s go.” He sounds irritated, the level authority he spoke with before gone. It takes her a second to register the order. “I said, let’s go,” he repeats, more loudly this time.

“I-I let you search my stuff,” she says. “I don’t know what else you need from me.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself. Now, move.” He helps her along with a small push to the shoulder. She presses her hands against the hood of the car. It hasn’t been sunny enough for the metal to get hot, but the chipping paint over it is still slightly warm to the touch. She tries to focus on its feeling alone for the next minute or so.

The officer kicks her feet apart, so her legs aren’t touching, and frisks her. Her heart beats fast in her chest at the thought of the knife in her shoe, but thankfully, he doesn’t search there. “I’m clean,” she tells him when he’s started to back off, not bothering to hide the anger in her voice.

“Right, except for this little guy right here.” He takes the pipe from the other officer and holds it up. “You know drug possession and consumption are serious crimes?”

Ryuko levels her gaze with his. “Is smoking tobacco being added to the growing list of criminal activity I haven’t yet been made aware of?”

“If you’re in the mood for cracking jokes, save it for when we’re at the station.”

“The station?” she repeats. The confidence behind her sass a second ago is instantly wiped away when he forces her wrists into cuffs behind her back.

“Yes, the station. You’re now in detainment.”

“Wait—hold on just a second here,” she protests. “You can’t take me in. This is a load of—”

“Quiet,” he says. “And get in the car.” He opens the door for her, and the other cop grabs her by the shoulders to help lower her into the seat. He chucks her bag at her feet a second later, and the door slams shut before she can protest any further.

When the two officers join her inside, and she hears the engine rattle to life, her pulse races madly. She reminds herself to take deep breaths, and tries to ignore the way her belly seizes anxiously. Fighting her way out of this situation would be physically easy, if she managed to knock these two out before they could draw their guns. And if worse came to worst, she could very well survive a couple of gunshots. But it simply isn’t an option. The repercussions wouldn’t be too great—it’d give them legitimate reason to arrest her, and probably result in greater punishment than whatever bullshit reason they busted her for. She focuses instead on clearing her head, and taking in her surroundings.

The police car is old; the fabric seats are discolored in a way that makes them look dusty at first glance. Otherwise, it’s fairly clean. Once she’s become familiar with the car’s interior, and its stale smell mixed with air freshener, she leans towards the window to try and read the street signs they pass by. The more she regains a comfortable grasp of where it is they are in the world, the more steeply her adrenaline seems to drop again. In her fist moment of clarity since she was stopped in the street, she thinks of Satsuki. _Fuck, where do I even start?_

“Could I make a phone call, please?” she calls out to the officers in front of her.

“No,” they tell her in unison.

“Then, can I make one when we get to the station?” she presses.

“You’ll be brought in for interrogation first,” the one in the passenger seat says. “We’ll see after that, but don’t get your hopes up.”

Ryuko frowns, and tests the strength of the cuffs on her hands by tugging them lightly apart. She’d have to nearly tear her wrists off to pry them out. Something feels off about this entire situation, she realizes, the more time she has to clear her head. Silence falls in the car again, save for the occasional buzzing and crackling of the radio intercepting other transmissions.

 

As soon as they step into the station, the younger officer, holding her by the elbow, guides her towards a row of chairs pushed against the wall opposite the front desk. She plunks down on the seat while he stays standing. His partner’s walked off to talk to the woman at the counter. She overhears her own name, along with the words “drug possession”, and “interrogation”. The rest is exchanged too quietly for her to make out. 

“Can I make that phone call now?” she asks, tilting her head up at the cop still standing beside her. He doesn’t look her way, and doesn’t get to answer, either, because his partner cuts in.

“Come along, Ms. Matoi,” he says with a wave of a clipboard to motion her forward. “We’re taking you straight to the back.” She stands quickly and falls into step behind him, and the young officer follows her in turn so that she’s sandwiched between the two of them as she walks.

They reach a nondescript door, which the cop unlocks and pushes open, before making way for her to step past him. “In you go,” he says, holding out his arm. Ryuko takes one step, then halts at the doorway stubbornly.

“My family’s gonna be worried,” she tells him. “Can I please just call quickly?”

He only repeats the motion of his arm gesturing her into the room, so she turns her gaze away and shuffles in after a couple of seconds. The cop then steps forward to undo her cuffs, and says, “Take a seat, across from the glass there. Maybe you’ll get your call later.”

With that, the door is shut behind her, and she’s left standing alone in the little room. It isn’t at all what they make it out to be in movies. No single light hanging over the table in an otherwise dark space, no cement brick walls, no feeling of being spotlighted when she takes a seat. That isn’t to say it isn’t austere in its own right. The walls are eggshell white. The ceiling lights give off a clinical vibe, like she’s in doctor’s office, or a hospital room. The table she rests her arms against is made of metal. The chairs don’t have any sort of padding, either. All of it stands on shitty vinyl flooring that reminds her of middle and high school classrooms.

She sits for long enough that she loses a good sense of how much time has gone by. Without a window or a clock on the wall, it’s the kind of place that could rob you of hours or minutes without your knowing it. When the door lock finally clicks back, she jumps the slightest bit before regaining her composure. She falls into an air of nonchalance easily—anyone who knows her well enough would be able to see through it, but she’s practiced enough at getting into trouble that the poised attitude comes naturally.

But her composure immediately crumbles when she recognizes the second person that walks into the room. Ebihara, with a calm that only elevates Ryuko’s bewilderment by comparison, takes the chair across the table from her own, and folds her hands together in front of her.

Ryuko scoots up in her seat once she’s ridden over the initial surprise, grits her teeth, and aims a glare Ebihara’s way. The sinking feeling from before, the feeling that something’s been wrong all this time, clicks easily in her head. She’s in something deep, or on the verge of it, at the very least.

“You bitch—” She hardly gets the word out before being cut off by a hard hit to the face. In all her focusing on Ebihara, she’d failed to fully register the presence of the cop she’d brought in with her. The sting of his palm against her cheek has her reeling for a second. She shakes it off, wills herself not to cup her hand over her jaw, and rides out the shock instead.

Ebihara’s held out her hand to the officer, signaling for him to back away. “No need for brutality,” she says. “Though I’m sure it’d take far more than that to properly hurt you.”

Ryuko bites her tongue and settles back into her seat. She lays her hands face down against the table, fights the nervous urge to run her fingers along the little notches someone’s dug into the metal. She shakes almost imperceptibly in her anger.

“Matoi Ryuko,” Ebihara says her name like she’s only just become acquainted with it. “You’ve been placed under arrest for drug possession. Other charges may have yet to come—we’re still running background checks. You do have the right to remain silent throughout this interrogation, but it’s honestly pointless given we already have evidence.”

She huffs through her nose at that. “This is ridiculous. What damn evidence?”

Ebihara only holds up her hand to silence her and continues, “I’m not done. I have to finish listing off your rights. You can hire an attorney—that, or you’ll get a court appointed lawyer when the time comes.” She pauses, removes her hands from the table, and settles against the back of her chair. “And that covers that.”

“Bullshit, I’m not going to court. I haven’t done anything,” Ryuko says. She doesn’t actually know whether it’s within the realm of possibility that she end up in front of a prosecutor for this. But denying it aloud makes her feel better. Ebihara stares at her like she’s seen through her bravado. There’s a pleased twinkle in her eye that makes Ryuko’s skin scrawl. “You’re messed up, you know that? Throwing me in jail won’t do you any good.”

“I never said anything about throwing you in jail,” Ebihara says, pausing to cross her legs, and then her arms. “I’m only looking for sufficient paperwork to fill the gaps… to justify a theoretical absence, if you will.”

“A kidnapping.” Ryuko glances quickly over at the police officer standing against the far wall of the room. He doesn’t look her way. She doesn’t know what she thought she’d find in him—a flicker of hope, reason to believe the police aren’t privy to Ebihara’s agenda. It’s clear she won’t be getting any help here.

“Well, that’s a touch too colorful for my tastes. It’d be great if I had your cooperation.” Ryuko’s expression hardens, and her hands clench restlessly over the table. Ebihara catches the movement, and leans forward to draw something from her back pocket. She places a pair of handcuffs against the tabletop and says, “If you aren’t civil enough to control yourself, let me know, and I’ll restrain you.”

“Fuck you,” Ryuko says. “This isn’t a real interrogation. This is fucking illegal.”

“Intelligence agencies aren’t above the law. But given particular circumstances… untraditional methods are bound to come into play.”

Ryuko’s inched her hands forward to grab the cuffs. She fingers the chain linking them together. Ebihara stops her when she says, “On or off, Ryuko. They’re not for you to play with.” She drops them and slides them back to the other side of the table.

“When can I make a phone call?” she asks.

Ebihara ignores the question completely. “You know, you don’t have any medical records on file anywhere. You’ve never even checked into a hospital. Not once in almost twenty years now. Isn’t that a bit curious?”

“Got a good immune system on me, and a fair bit of luck, I suppose.”

“Certainly one way to put it.”

Another beat of silence. Ryuko’s getting tired of this prolonged staring contest they’re having; Ebihara’s face aggravates her to no end.

“You know, I never got the full story on your surname, Ryuko,” she tells her. “Both your parents’ names on your birth certificate lead to dead ends… And no mention of Kiryuin Ragyo. Clearly your mother didn’t want you found out.”

“Don’t talk like you know shit.”

“You’re right, my apologies,” she says lightly. “I’ll soon have all the time in the world to get to know you better, hmm?”

“Let me make a phone call,” Ryuko repeats herself rather than rising to the bait.

Ebihara’s brow twitches, and her smile fades, but she otherwise gives Ryuko’s request no acknowledgement before going on, “Tell me, does your body respond differently to drugs than—well, than a _human_ ’s body might?”

“I’m not talking to you until I get a call.”

“You’re talking to me right now, so apparently that’s not going too well.”

“A call,” Ryuko persists.

“You know, I’m doing you a favor by spending time with you,” Ebihara tells her. “Talk to me about who you buy from, who you sell to if that’s the case—so that we can get on with things. Maybe we’ll even shave some time off your sentence.”

 _Right, like the sentence matters_ , Ryuko thinks. _Admit to anything, and I’m fucking myself in the ass. On top of whatever plans she has for me._

“Or you could cut to the chase, tell me a bit about life fibers.”

“I’d like to make a phone call.”

Ebihara sighs and lets genuine annoyance crack at her composure. “Your sister isn’t above the law, Ryuko. Talking to her won’t get you out of anything.”

“Good, then I don’t see what the problem is,” Ryuko says. “Let me call her.”

“Afraid we don’t allow conjugal visits, either,” Ebihara smirks. Ryuko remains unfazed, doesn’t give her the satisfaction of drawing out a reaction.

“Let me use a phone.”

The conversation circles in the same way for the better part of the next hour—Ebihara prodding any way she can to get a rise out of her, only for Ryuko to respond obstinately with the same request at every try. There are few people who can match her stubbornness once she’s set her mind on something.

She feels her heart lighten and her hopes surface again when Ebihara eventually relents. “Alight,” she says. “I’ll allow you one phone call.” Ryuko fights off the beginnings of a smile at her victory. “Don’t look so smug about it.”

Ryuko watches Ebihara’s every move as she stands up and leaves the room. The officer who struck her before still stands in the corner, staring her down. She breaks eye contact quickly, and though she hates to admit it, feels relieved once Ebihara returns to dispel the tension. She holds in her right hand a cordless phone. It’s small, black, with clunky rounded buttons—definitely outdated. She extends it Ryuko, not without taking her time, and keeps her hold on it even as Ryuko tries to take it from her.

“I’ll be standing right here the entire time,” she tells her.

“Right.” Ryuko continues to grip the phone, like her permission to use it might be rescinded at any moment. Ebihara lets it go, and she immediately sets about dialing Satsuki’s number. She’s glad she has it committed to memory.

“You have five minutes and counting,” she says, pulling back her sleeve to read her watch.

Ryuko presses the phone piece to her ear, and almost breathes a sigh of relief when it doesn’t cut straight to voicemail. The ringing goes on once, twice, three times—and with each repetition, the feeling of her own pulse in her ears threatens to drown out her hearing.

* * *

 

Satsuki’s phone lies at the corner of her desk, just out of reach from where she’s standing. She doesn’t notice the screen’s been lit to life until Soroi tells her as much. A private number. Looking down again at the schedule they’ve been working on for the past hour, her first instinct is to let the call die. If it’s important, they’ll leave a message.

Three rings in and she checks the time. There’s a nagging feeling in her gut telling her to pick up. Might as well, given it’s already done a good job distracting her.

“Soroi, my phone, please,” she says. He grabs it for her with a quiet “Of course, Miss”. She’d told him to stop addressing her as “Lady Satsuki” a couple years ago, but calling her by her name somehow doesn’t feel right, so “Miss” is what he settles for instead. He hands her the phone, and she halts a moment, before picking up and bringing it to her ear.

“Kiryuin Satsuki speaking.”

She recognizes the voice on the other end of the line immediately. “Holy shit, thank god, Sats. I thought you weren’t gonna pick up.”

“Ryuko,” she says. Surprise and confusion bleed through as she tries to piece things together. There’s tension in the way her sister speaks, a sort of wound up energy. “What’s wrong? Where are you calling from?”

“Right, well, about that. I’m in a bit of a situation right now. I’ll cut to the chase, ‘cause I don’t have much time to talk, so just don’t freak out, yea?” Half a dozen scenarios cycle through Satsuki’s mind, some more frightening than others—but whatever’s happened, at least Ryuko’s well enough to be speaking to her. She’s about to prompt her to continue, but gets cut off. “I kinda got arrested.”

Satsuki’s eyebrows shoot up and she’s left speechless for an instant. That wasn’t exactly at the top of her list of predictions. When she finally answers, the disbelief is plain in her voice. “What on earth did you do, Ryuko?”

“I didn’t do anything!” she replies quickly. “Honest. Just listen to me a sec because they’re timing my phone call and shit.” There’s a beat of silence across the line. “The cops took me in off the streets, said it was for carrying drugs, which is some real horseshit seeing as I had nothin’ on me. And Ebihara’s here, Sats. Sitting right across from me.”

“Ebihara,” Satsuki repeats the name, almost like a question. As soon as it registers, blood drains from her face so fast she feels her vision tunnel. Her heart rate picks up and her muscles tense. The sound of muffled voices on Ryuko’s end pulls her back, and she’s suddenly hyperaware of her surroundings—of the concerned look on Soroi’s face, the papers and files on her desk that suddenly seem meaningless, the way her own breathing comes in a bit more sharply than it usually does. “Why didn’t you mention her from the start?”

“Sorry I didn’t have an outline prepared for this conversation.”

“Alright, alright,” she sighs, partially to make sure she has Ryuko’s attention, but mostly to steady herself. “Do you know where you are? If not an address, then a landmark—anything at all.”

She listens to the street names Ryuko gives her, and even though she now clearly visualizes which police station they’ve taken her to, grabs a pen and writes it across her arm for good measure. The voices behind Ryuko become louder, more insistent.

“No way it’s been five minutes!” Ryuko says to someone after an instant. Then, into the receiver again, “Shit—alright, they’re gonna take the phone back.”

With the phone wedged between the side of her face and her shoulder, Satsuki’s already started grabbing her wallet and her keys off the desk. She doesn’t bother with anything else, and stuffs it all into the jacket draped over her armchair as she speaks. “Ryuko, listen, I’m handling this, just—don’t worry, ok? I’m on my way.”

“Ok.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

She isn’t sure whether Ryuko’s caught that last bit, because the line goes silent. Her phone leaves its place against her ear and she slides it back into her pocket before heading towards the door with her jacket slung over her arm. She turns back around once she’s made it halfway across the room to face Soroi, who looks just about as confused as she might expect him to.

“If it’s anything I can help with—” he starts.

“Ryuko’s in trouble. Or at least I think she is,” she says quickly. “Can I ask you to come with me to the police station? To drive, so that I can make some phone calls on the way there?” She has a handful of lawyers she can contact—surely one of them will do the trick. It takes her a second to remember their names off the top of her head; her mind is so preoccupied now that few things aside from the bare essentials to saving Ryuko manage to coalesce.

“Of course,” he says without a moment’s hesitation.

“I really can’t thank you enough, Soroi.” She’s already started to turn away when she says it, but he knows she means it with all her being.

* * *

 

They’ve left her alone in the interrogation room again after forcing her off the phone. Ebihara was furious, when Ryuko told Satsuki where it is they took her—apparently the cops who brought her in were supposed to have seen to it that she wouldn’t know. The officer standing in the corner of the room saw her over sharing as reason enough to strike her again. Ebihara didn’t stop him that time. “She heals quickly, so it doesn’t matter what you do,” she’d added on her way out the room.

Ryuko sits now with a sorely bruised cheek that even her life fibers can’t fix over within seconds. She prods at the tender skin with her fingers, and winces. At least it hasn’t split. Ebihara’s truer colors aren’t something she’s much interested in seeing if this treatment serves as any indicator.

They must be standing out in the main room, or close to the hallway out the door, because she can just barely pick up on their conversation. She has to strain to really make out their words, and her head hurts at the effort. When the thunderous sound of rain pelting the roof drowns them out completely, she gives up, and stares at her reflection against the one-way mirror she’s facing. Its presence makes her too nervous to settle down.

The rain either stops or slows within the hour—though she can’t tell for certain how long it’s been—so that she realizes a new set of voices has joined the others. Judging by the clipped cadence of Ebihara’s speech, an argument’s started brewing. And then she hears it, Satsuki’s voice, strong and firm and unyielding. She thinks she picks out the words “my sister” somewhere in the middle of a fierce speech. As messed up as her situation might be, her hopes light up at once at the sound of that. She grows increasingly impatient knowing she could knock down the door and be reunited with her in a heartbeat.

The rattling of a key in the lock surprises her for the second time now, and the cop who walks in is the same woman who was sitting behind the desk when she first arrived at the station. Ryuko looks past her expectantly, hoping to find Satsuki behind her. But no one follows.

“Come on,” she tells her with a jerk of her head.

“Am I being let out?”

She doesn’t receive an answer, but stands up nonetheless, and follows the cop down the hallway and back into the main room. Her eyes immediately gravitate towards Satsuki, who lets herself stare back for a couple of seconds before turning to Ebihara again. They’re so close to each other they might as well be touching. Ebihara stands at her full height and draws her shoulders back, like a bird plumping up its feathers to make a show of looking impressive. Satsuki’s raw strength of will still dwarfs her with hardly any effort. They’ve lowered their voices so that Ryuko can’t hear what it is they’re saying.

She’s missed something, because all of a sudden, Ebihara’s taken the final step to bridge the space separating them. The chain of responses that ensues is so immediate Ryuko doesn’t dare blink. Satsuki raises her arm to shove her back, and at once, the officers surrounding Ebihara circle in tighter, ready to step in at first sign of an escalation. Soroi, whom Ryuko’s only just noticed, comes closer to Satsuki in his own silent support.

The only person who seems somewhat removed from the conflict is a woman standing off to the side, wearing an immaculate skirt suit. She must have come in somewhat recently, because, like Satsuki and Soroi, her shoes are slightly wet from the rain outside. Ryuko catches her eye, and she seems to smile for a moment before clearing her throat to cut through the tension that’s settled between Satsuki and Ebihara.

“It looks like Matoi’s finally joined us. Might as well get this done as quickly as possible, Ms. Ebihara,” she says.

Ebihara looks at Ryuko and then, without bothering to acknowledge Satsuki again, turns to look at the woman who’s just spoken. “Let’s talk in back.” The officers circling them disperse at Ebihara’s signal.

The woman in the suit stops in front of Satsuki, and says, “You can go on ahead, it shouldn’t take very long to settle things here. I’ll contact you by tomorrow morning.” She then pauses to give Ryuko another soft smile before following along after Ebihara. By the time the three of them are left alone, Ryuko is in such disbelief over the ease with which they set her free that her legs almost shake when the tension leaves her body.

“Sats,” she breathes as she draws nearer. After sitting in that room for hours, trying not to let herself grow scared for what might happen, she wants so badly to hug her close.

Satsuki’s eyes are soft with relief. She places a hand over Ryuko’s arm, and squeezes her there gently. “Imouto,” she says. “You like to keep me on my feet.” Ryuko smiles a little, and then glances over at Soroi.

“Thanks, you guys. I have no clue what you pulled but I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

“Let’s get out of here, hmm?” Satsuki says. “We can talk in the car.” Ryuko nods.

They make their way out of the station—Ryuko retrieves her confiscated bag as they pass the front desk—and stand just beneath the eave to stay out of the pouring rain. It’s so heavy they can hardly see to the other end of the parking lot—the fact that it’s night out doesn’t help, either. Soroi pulls out a small retractable umbrella, and unfurls it over his head to step out into the rain.

“I’ll get the car,” he tells them.

“Thank you, Soroi.”

He hurries off, leaving them standing alone in the white noise of the rain hitting asphalt. It splashes hard enough to bounce back up against the bottom of their legs. Ryuko almost sways where she stands, when her tiredness kicks in. She’s hungry. Food, a shower, and a familiar bed sound like the best things in the world right now. She turns her head towards Satsuki to tell her as much, only to find her staring. The way her eyes focus fiercely arrests her train of thought. It’s her cheek that she’s zoned in on, she realizes, where she had bruised earlier.

“That’s new,” she says. Ryuko brings her hand up to cover it before Satsuki can touch it herself. She rubs over the mark, as though that might erase it.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” she growls. “They aren’t—they can’t do that to you.” There’s real anger in her voice, and Ryuko thinks for a second that she might go back into the station to give Ebihara a piece of her mind.

Before she can say any more, Soroi pulls up in front of them, as close as he can manage so that they won’t have to walk through the rain. Ryuko reaches for the door first, yanks it open, and slides in to make room for Satsuki to sit with her in the backseat.

“Thanks a million, Soroi,” Ryuko says as they buckle themselves in.

“Of course, Miss Ryuko,” he says. “I’m glad to see this ordeal hasn’t dragged your spirits down too much.” She hums in response, and looks out the window, at the droplets of rain falling in rivulets over the glass. Her head lolls backwards, and she lays it there with her neck bent back against the headrest. Her breathing relaxes and levels as they drive on.

She doesn’t startle when a hand reaches over to brush her hair softly from her cheek. Satsuki lets her palm rest against her, and thumbs lightly over the bruise that’s already begun to yellow over. It’ll be gone by morning, most likely. “Did they hurt you elsewhere?” Satsuki asks eventually, breaking the silence otherwise filled only by the steady beat of the wipers drawing back against the windshield.

Ryuko grabs her hand and pulls it down to rest between them on the seat, and holds it there. She can feel Satsuki looking her over, trying to find more marks. She shakes her head, and then adds, as extra reassurance, “No. I’m alright.” It comes out almost a whisper. Satsuki places her other hand, the one not holding Ryuko’s, against her arm as though to better anchor them together. The warmth of her touch spreads into Ryuko. Her eyes dart to the rearview mirror, acutely aware of Soroi’s presence all of a sudden.

“How’d you manage to convince them?” she asks if only for the sake of changing topics. “Were you at the station long?”

“I got in touch with one of my lawyers right after you called me,” Satsuki tells her as she slots their fingers together. Ryuko recalls the woman from before. “She’s excellent at what she does, always willing to go out of her way to accommodate her clients. We spoke to Ebihara for close to an hour together, I’d guess.”

“She’s insane.”

“She certainly tests the limits of my self control,” Satsuki says.

“The thought of her dead is almost too appealing, isn’t it? Shoulda brought Bakuzan along.” She means it mostly as a joke, but Satsuki answers seriously.

“Honestly, you shouldn’t put it past me.” She pauses, then adds, “I don’t think there’s anything I’m above doing when it comes to your wellbeing, Imouto.” Leave it to Satsuki to make the suggestion of murder sound remotely romantic. Ryuko feels herself warm at the honesty in her words despite their context. She squeezes her hand.

“But we won’t have to worry about her anymore,” Satsuki continues. “A restraining order is already in the works.”

“Amen,” Ryuko sighs. “We shoulda done that ages ago.”

“I know, I wasn’t careful enough. I just didn’t imagine she would take things this far.”

Ryuko leans over to bump her lightly against the shoulder, and Satsuki takes it as opportunity to readjust her grip against her arm and hold her closer. “She reached a dead end pretty quick,” Ryuko tells her. Satsuki hums.

“Are you tired?” she asks when Ryuko slumps back listlessly in her seat again. “Sleep, if you want.”

“Hungry, mostly. But yea, a bit tired.”

“I’ll make food as soon as we get home,” Satsuki promises. Ryuko nods, and lets her head drop lightly against her sister’s shoulder. They don’t budge for the rest of the ride, conjoined from hip to knee, hands linked together.

Ryuko nearly dozes off, and doesn’t notice the car has pulled into their driveway until Satsuki straightens the slightest bit, prompting her to lift her head.

“We’ve arrived,” Soroi tells them with a slight tilt of his head in their direction. Ryuko wakes herself up, grabs her bag from where it lies at her feet, and gets ready to open the car door.

“Soroi, you can stay the night if you’d like. Or at least until the rain’s passed,” Satsuki offers.

“Thank you, Miss. But I may as well head home now that the two of you are safe again.”

“If you’re certain.”

He nods.

“Thank you, Soroi,” she says as she shifts closer to the door on her side. “I’ll see you over the weekend, to go over what we didn’t finish today.” He gives her another nod and a smile, then bids the both of them farewell before they leave his car.

Despite their running the short distance to the front door, they’re practically soaked by the time they step inside. Ryuko throws her bag down against the floor and kicks off her shoes to lay them right beside it. Satsuki shuts and locks the door behind them, and turns on the lights before pulling off her coat.

As soon as that’s done, she doesn’t waste a second pulling Ryuko to her. She buries her nose against her wetted hair, breathes her in, feels how her chest rises and falls against her own with every breath. Ryuko wraps her arms around her back and presses her face into her neck, warm where they touch, and cold everywhere else her drenched clothes meet the air. The feeling of Satsuki’s pulse, so close against her lips, makes her head buzz and her heart tighten. She’s been staving off the need for this intimacy since they’d been reunited at the police station—they both have.

“Nee-san,” she says just above a whisper, because she needs to hear herself say it, because it makes her feel safe—and because she wants Satsuki to know as much. She holds her a while longer, until the tension wound up in Ryuko’s back fades away.

“Are you cold?” Satsuki asks, shifting back to run her hands along her arms. Ryuko shivers as her heat draws away.

“A bit.”

“Take a shower. I’ll start on food.”

Ryuko listens to her, and heads upstairs to lock herself in the bathroom. Satsuki follows until they reach the hallway, at which point she branches off to her room to fish out fresh clothes for herself. She changes into a soft shirt, swapping out the smell of rain for that of fresh laundry.

When Ryuko joins her again downstairs, hair still slightly wet from her shower, to help her finish cooking, the air about them has changed. Satsuki still finds ways to alight gentle touches over her whenever she can, but without quite as much urgency as before. It’s comfortable. Ryuko, for the first time in a long time, doesn’t find herself overthinking their interactions, or shying away from them.

They sit down to eat, and Satsuki finally brings up what Ryuko knew she might. “I didn’t know you smoked,” she says simply. It isn’t a surprise, but she nearly bites her tongue at the comment anyway.

“Ah—does it bother you?” Ryuko asks.

“No, not at all,” Satsuki answers. “I’m just surprised I never found out. That you never mentioned it.”

“I don’t know… I guess I just didn’t know how you’d take it.”

“Do you smoke often?” she asks, without an ounce of judgment, out of pure curiosity.

“I mean, it’s kinda relative, yea?” Ryuko says, laughing a little. “It can honestly be kind of a struggle to find people to buy from consistently, seeing as the cops crack down so hard on dealers. So sometimes it depends on what I can find, who’s willing to sell.” She pauses, thinking. “Though I guess maybe I’ve been smoking more lately. The past few weeks. I dunno, I’ve been feeling kinda stressed out. It helps.”

Satsuki hums I thought.

Ryuko hesitates for a second and says, “If you’re curious, ever, you can let me know. Otherwise I’ll keep it to myself.” Another hum.

“You don’t smoke in the house, do you?” she asks. “Even if it’s your room, I don’t want it to smell.”

“Nah, don’t worry. Always outside.”

“And no cigarettes?”

Ryuko shakes her head. “Try to stay away from those.”

“That’s good.” And then, after a second, “So have you been walking around the house on cloud 9 without my noticing? I like to think I’m more observant than that.”

Ryuko laughs a little and says, “You prolly would have noticed. I’ll usually smoke at Mako’s, or sometimes with people from class, if they’re chill. And only late at night here, after you’ve gone to bed.”

“Sounds like you were lucky, then,” Satsuki tells her. Ryuko makes a sound to indicate her confusion. “That you didn’t have anything on you when the police stopped you.”

“I try not to—carry it around, I mean. Plus I’m running low right now.”

Satsuki hums again. It would have been infinitely harder to get Ryuko back from Ebihara in one piece, if she’d actually been arrested for anything legitimate. “Just be careful.”

“I am,” she assures her.

Satsuki stands, then, to head back into the kitchen. Ryuko follows after with her own empty plate in tow, rinses it in the sink, and helps her unload the dishwasher before placing it there. She checks the time on the clock hanging against the wall; it reads eleven thirty. It’s unusual for her to be feeling sleepy this early.

“Are you turning in?” Satsuki asks, having followed her line of sight. Ryuko shrugs.

“Might be a good idea. Though I doubt I’m gonna fall asleep, not for a bit.” She pauses, crosses her arms over her chest as she leans back against the counter. “D’you wanna watch a movie or something? Unless you wanna go to bed.”

“I’ll stay up with you.”

“Alright I’ll get my computer,” Ryuko tells her. She quickly leaves the room, takes the stairs up two at a time, and rummages through her backpack to retrieve her laptop. Thankfully it didn’t get wet in the rain. The clothes and books in her bag are still a mess from when the cop turned it inside out—not that they weren’t a mess before he’d gotten his hands on it, but it’s different. She dumps everything out onto the floor for later reorganization. She wants to wash the clothes now, anyway.

She leaves her room again with her laptop tucked under her arm, and is about to run down the steps when she bumps into Satsuki coming up herself.

“Whatcha gettin’?” Ryuko asks.

“Nothing,” Satsuki says. “I was actually going to suggest we watch upstairs. Makes for a shorter trip if we start to fall asleep.” Ryuko backtracks, walking backwards up the few steps she’s already come down.

“Your room or mine?”

“Yours is fine.”

They make it inside, and Satsuki realizes that it’s been a long while since she’s last been in Ryuko’s room. It’s altogether unchanged, except now the armchair in the corner’s been pushed over closer to the desk, to make space on the floor just beneath the window. A canvas lies there now over a large sheet to protect the flooring—and there are a few more leaning against the wall—along with paints and brushes.

Ryuko had forgotten she’d left it out, and when she sees Satsuki eyeing the corner of the room, wishes she had had the time to hide it all away, or at least move it aside.

“You’ve been painting?” Satsuki asks the obvious. “We can get you an easel, if you’d like one.”

“I-It’s not like, seriously or anything,” Ryuko tells her sheepishly. She moves between Satsuki and her paintings in a way that she hopes looks casual, not like she’s trying to block her view. “Just been feeling it lately. I think it’s a good outlet.”

Satsuki reads Ryuko’s discomfort and, despite her interest, looks away from the canvases lying on the floor. “That’s really great, Ryuko,” she says. She wants to add that she’d love to see them, if Ryuko ever has the urge to share, but stops herself from saying so. She’s sure Ryuko already knows it.

She moves to sit on the bed, and crosses her legs once she’s settled over the sheets. With a quick turn of her hand, she sends the duvet folding back against the foot of the mattress, to keep its heat away. Ryuko plops face down against her pillow a second later, only to roll over onto her back, bumping against Satsuki’s leg in the process. She pokes her ribs, and Ryuko instinctively laughs and bats away her hand in response. It makes Satsuki smile.

“What would I have done if I’d lost you today?” she says. It comes out sounding much like she’s talking to herself, like she mightn’t have meant to say it aloud.

Ryuko swallows away the lump that’s formed in her throat, and forces herself to sit up. She faces Satsuki without really knowing what to answer—she could make a joke of it, to lighten the mood, but that would slight the situation too much. Satsuki scoots in closer, unfolds her legs over Ryuko’s so that they frame her waist loosely. Ryuko’s about to pull her in for a hug, but stops short of wrapping her arms around her back when Satsuki’s fingers find her cheek. It’s the damn bruise again—or whatever’s left of it, seeing as she hardly noticed it last time she looked through a mirror.

“This makes me livid,” Satsuki tells her bluntly. Her voice remains steady, but that doesn’t make Ryuko doubt her in the least. The concern, the tenderness in her eyes is plain when Ryuko finally catches her gaze. That, coupled with the hand now cupping her cheek, makes her stomach churn, and her face grow warm. She casts her eyes down against the space between them for fear of giving herself away any more than she already has.

Her hands, however, manage to make it around Satsuki’s waist as she had originally intended. She traces her fingers over her shirt, drawing lines and nonsense patterns that have Satsuki leaning the slightest bit forward. She pulls Ryuko to her as she slides her hand closer to the back of her neck. Their cheeks press together.

Satsuki’s breath is warm, close to her ear. Her hair smells like shampoo and rain intermingled, from when they were outside. And though they use the same laundry detergent, Ryuko always finds it smells different on Satsuki—softer, warmer. Sharing things makes her happy, reminds her that in a different world, they would have had the chance to share much more.

She leans her head so they’re pressed firmly temple-to-temple, and almost bobs out of balance when Satsuki shifts to nuzzles her cheek. When she suddenly begins to draw back, Ryuko instinctively fists her hands into her shirt, not wanting her to pull away.

“I’m here,” she assures her as she comes right back to rest their foreheads together. Ryuko swallows once, harshly, before opening her eyes to look at her. As simple as those two words are, the emotions they bring out sit heavily in her throat. She isn’t used to being relayed this kind of sentiment. She feels safe, wanted.

Satsuki whispers her name and Ryuko feels it stir the air as it hits her lips. It makes her wet them quickly with a passing of her tongue. She bumps their noses together, and Satsuki pushes back into her as she goes on nuzzling.

It happens with far less fuss than Ryuko would have imagined, like a natural extension of the affection they’re already sharing. It’s as simple as Satsuki pulling her face forward, trailing her lips over her cheek, and caressing the line of her jaw with her fingertips. It’s like standing in the thickest quicksand—with each second that passes she seems to have moved no further than the one before, and yet she’s already sunk down to her neck without realizing it.

Ryuko’s head is swimming by the time she draws her gently in the rest of the way. Satsuki kisses her slowly, lingers long enough for the butterflies in her belly to multiply a hundred times over. And then she gives her a second kiss, when the first one’s ended, that feels much more self-assured. The soft wetness of her lips on their third kiss, coupled with the way her fingers brush behind her ear, has Ryuko humming.

Satsuki pulls back, then, to look at her with unbridled tenderness that makes Ryuko’s knees weak. They’re both flushed, pulses thrumming. Ryuko plays with the fabric at the back of Satsuki’s shirt, trying not to let her hands shake, and initiates another kiss. When she draws her lip between her own, Satsuki practically sighs against her. Their teeth knock in her haste and she makes a conscious effort to slow down, and pulls away after a minute. It’s hard, with Satsuki’s breathing coming in soft little huffs and her cheeks rosed over, to tame her impulses.

She leans back, finding the headboard, to give herself a bit of space. Satsuki follows and scoots their bodies closer together. They’re both wearing shorts, so the motion has their bare thighs brushing softly together, and that feeling of skin onto skin heightens the arousal pooling between Ryuko’s legs. Satsuki sits close enough that she might as well be in her lap.

She skirts her fingers to Ryuko’s shoulders and traces her collarbones as she kisses her. Ryuko lets her hands follow the swell of her hips from her waist. She pauses at her hipbones, to knead gentle patterns there with her thumbs. Satsuki’s hips sway minutely at the pressure, and a small noise escapes her when Ryuko encourages the motion by pulling her forward.

She cuts off their kiss, in a very Satsuki-like manner, to try and regain control of her own body’s responses. It affords Ryuko just enough time to clear her head. She can hardly believe this isn’t a dream.

“W-We get to talk about this, right?” she asks breathily, and there’s an undertone of hurt in her question. “Or are we gonna pretend nothing happened for the next month?” A slight twitch of Satsuki’s lip betrays the beginnings of a frown, which she hides away by kissing Ryuko again.

“I didn’t want that to happen,” she says after pulling away. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t fair to you. I just thought it was the best course of action at the time.”

Ryuko is suddenly frustrated at herself for having brought this up—she wants little else but to drown in the feeling of Satsuki’s lips against her own at the moment. But judging by the way her heart aches, she figures it’s probably important to talk about.

“I thought I’d really fucked everything up,” she admits.

“That’s precisely the reason I didn’t… didn’t reciprocate, at the time. And I wasn’t sure of what I wanted, of what I was ready for, to be perfectly honest.”

“And now?”

“I’ve had time to think, to put my own emotions into perspective.”

“You coulda given me an update.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeats herself. She kisses her again, lightly, and it has them both blushing anew. Ryuko has to put in some considerable effort before being able to respond.

“I-I’ve felt this way about you for a while. Even before the trip last month.”

“I know,” Satsuki tells her with a small smile. “Part of me tried to ignore it, to lie to myself, but I knew.”

Ryuko is suddenly embarrassed. “What do you mean, you knew?”

“Little things add up,” she says easily. “The way you flush.” She runs her thumbs over her cheeks. “The way your pupils dilate when I come close.” She leans in so their noses brush. “The way your eyes soften.” She leans back to hold her hand, then, and gives it a gentle squeeze. “You wear your heart on your sleeve, Imouto.” Ryuko lets her forehead drop against Satsuki’s shoulder, opting not to answer.

“I felt the same way, though,” Satsuki continues. “I’ve had… feelings for you for quite some time now. Feelings that exceed the traditional bounds of familial affection.”

“Does that part bother ya? I mean, was it why you… ignored it, like you said?”

Satsuki lets out a little huff and says, “No, that’s only a tiny piece of the equation. I was more concerned with what might happen if something were to go wrong. It still scares me a little.”

Ryuko hums in thought. A moment of silence goes by, during which Satsuki preoccupies herself by tucking away strands of hair behind Ryuko’s ears.

“Shit, though,” Ryuko says eventually, with a grin on her face. “If I’d known things would play out like this, I’d have gotten arrested ages ago.”

“That isn’t funny,” Satsuki admonishes her. It only makes Ryuko laugh.

“S’all right, I know how you get all protective, Nee-san.”

She swears Satsuki’s cheeks grow pinker at that.

“I’d do the whole day all over again,” she continues. Satsuki gives her a look, and tries to quiet her little chortles with a kiss. Ryuko’s voice quickly tapers off into a pleased hum. “Definitely worth it.”

“Kiss me,” Satsuki insists when Ryuko still grins too much to properly return her attention. That does the trick. She flushes to the tips of her ears and complies, pulling Satsuki closer in the process, hands still planted over her hips.

Satsuki makes a deep humming sound when Ryuko’s tongue slips against her own. Hearing it makes Ryuko acutely aware of her arousal again. She drags her teeth carefully against Satsuki’s bottom lip, tugging lightly before releasing again. She’s rewarded with a soft gasp, and a threading of Satsuki’s fingers through her hair. The feeling of her nails against her scalp rolls a pleasant shiver down her spine, and coaxes out a moan.

Satsuki’s thighs tighten around her waist, and with the encouragement of Ryuko’s hands against her hips, she starts to rock again.

“Fuck,” Ryuko says against her lips as she reaches around to the small of her back. She has to summon a tremendous amount of willpower not to go ahead and grab her ass. Satsuki whines, fingers tracing her collarbones now, and Ryuko thinks she’s about to lose her damn mind.

Her hands skirts back to Satsuki’s front, and with the tips of her fingers, she edges up under her shirt to stroke at the soft skin above the waistband of her shorts. She feels Satsuki’s sharp intake of breath against her mouth as she arches into her. But the muscles beneath her fingers tense at once, and the pace at which Satsuki sways her hips stutters. Her bottom lip, drawn between her own, trembles the slightest bit at the new touch. Ryuko knows immediately to pull her hands away. They fall back down to her sides, safely over her clothes.

A sense of guilt washes over her when she opens her eyes to see the conflicted look on Satsuki’s face, and the small way her brow furrows.

“I’m sorry,” Ryuko whispers, to which Satsuki makes a stifled sound before bringing their lips together again. Ryuko slows her kisses, though, and guides them back to gentle pecks, keeping her hands away all the while. When Satsuki pulls back completely, she avoids making eye contact.

“You ok?” Ryuko asks quietly.

“Yes, I’m fine.” She glances up quickly to look at her. It’s a lie if Ryuko’s ever heard one, but she doesn’t push.

“You wanna go to bed?”

Satsuki nods, slides out of her lap, but stops to kiss her once more before pulling away completely. Ryuko returns it with what she thinks is an appropriate amount of eagerness. The feeling of Satsuki’s lips is still so novel, and it sends a little shudder running through her. Her heart swells happily in her chest.

“Y-You can stay here if you want,” she offers without thinking too much. Satsuki pauses with her feet over the side of the bed. She plays with own fingers, the way she does when she’s nervous sometimes. “Only if you wanna.”

“I do want to,” she says. “I just—I don’t…” She can’t seem to find the right words to start her sentence with.

“Just to sleep near you,” Ryuko clarifies, just in case. “Only kiss me if you wanna. Though I know I can be pretty irresistible,” she can’t stop herself from adding with a wink, which draws a small smile and an eye roll out of Satsuki.

“Ok,” she says.

They take turns in the bathroom brushing teeth, mostly because Ryuko wants to give Satsuki some space, and once they’re done, slip back into bed together. Ryuko pulls the duvet up around them.

“Aren’t you hot with this? It’s summer,” Satsuki says as they shuffle beneath the sheets to get comfortable

“I gotta have it, to feel safe.”

“You have me for that.”

She can hear the smile in Ryuko’s voice when she says, “True.”

Satsuki scoots closer, until they’re cuddling, and settles her head beneath Ryuko’s chin. Ryuko makes sure to keep her hands where she knows she won’t draw out a negative reaction. She lets her arm wrap loosely around her shoulders.

She tries not to squirm when Satsuki starts to nuzzle her neck, or when she presses a kiss against the corner of her jaw. She trails kisses up her face until she reaches her lips, and kisses her there, too.

Ryuko is all too easy to pull noises from, Satsuki realizes—a brush against the back of her neck, a gentle tug against her hair, a small stroke of her tongue against the roof of her mouth. She commits to memory the different sounds she makes, along with the actions that prompt them.

“O-Oi, Sats,” Ryuko says after a bit. Her breathing’s heavy, and even in the dark, Satsuki knows a pretty blush has settled over her cheeks. “This is kinda getting’ me… too excited. I mean, if we’re trying to go to bed.”

“Ah, I’m sorry.” Satsuki says. Ryuko can here the realization in her voice, like it comes as a surprise to know how potently her actions affect her. “I got carried away.”

“Let’s just cuddle, yea?”

Satsuki hums her approval and pulls herself close again, this time with Ryuko’s head against her chest. She combs her fingers lightly through her hair, in a way she knows will relax rather than arouse. Ryuko sighs softly as she nuzzles against her, pressing her hand against Satsuki’s back to squeeze her more tightly.

“I’m really happy,” she says quietly as she listens to her heartbeat.

“Seeing as your happiness contributes largely to mine—then I’m doubly happy.”

“Geez, it ain’t a competition. Just sayin’ my heart’s all warm and shit.”

“Beautifully put,” Satsuki says.

“And now I'm in boob pillow heaven,” she continues after a beat of silence. “Where everyone deserves to end the day.” Satsuki almost rewards her with a huff of laughter, but not quite. She bends her head down to place a kiss over her crown. 

Ryuko sighs a soft, "Goodnight, Sats," against her chest. It makes Satsuki's heart speed up the slightest bit—Ryuko can feel it against her ear—before she echoes her own goodnight in return. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for bearing with nearly 90k words of my tiptoeing fam


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (preemptive) rating change! I hope you guys like the direction I take this in.  
> I'll be focusing on Satsuki a lot more now, so I'm trying to figure out how to balance switching between POVs. I apologize if it feels choppy. Constructive criticism is welcome. 
> 
> Also—If you’re here and underage, know that from here on out, this work is not being written for your consumption! If you're under 18, please do not approach me in any way to talk about it, as it puts me in an exceptionally uncomfortable position. Thank you.
> 
> Otherwise, feel free to talk to me on tumblr @lifefibersync

Satsuki wakes up feeling lost. The ceiling overhead is foreign, and somehow the window usually off to her right has migrated to face her feet. Because she isn’t in her bed. It takes her a second, but as soon as she realizes that fact—that she and Ryuko have shared a room since the arrest four nights ago—her panic settles down a little.

And yet she’s nowhere near calmed. She sits herself up on the mattress. Her head immediately spins, and she feels so nauseous she has to lean back against the headboard to steady herself. She can’t tell how loud she’s being, what with her heart beating so loudly in her ears. Even if Ryuko doesn’t wake easily, she somehow seems to have a sixth sense for detecting her distress.

When the blood stops rushing in her ears, she realizes her breathing is audibly heavy. And the room feels so quiet. She concentrates on bringing it back to normal. If she were alone, she’d stand up to pace across the room, grab a book, walk downstairs, do anything to keep from lying in bed with a choking panic in her chest. But she thinks of Ryuko, and, not to rouse her worry, does just that. She focuses on matching her inhales and exhales to the cycle of her sister’s breathing.

It helps in time. Her panic is slowly replaced by the hollowest of feelings, an emptiness. She tries not to fill her head again with memories of her dream, but it’s hard to bring much else to mind. Ryuko stirs in her sleep. At a loss for what else to do, Satsuki moves to lie back down between the sheets. It should pass—if she just pulls her world into focus, it will pass.

Ryuko suddenly rolls over onto her back, and there’s a small hitch in the way she draws a breath, before it deepens again and she lies still. Satsuki turns to look at her. She looks so peaceful when she sleeps, it actually helps calm her down. Her head clears enough that she begins to imagine what Ryuko might say if she woke up to see her like this.

She’s realized how little sleep Satsuki actually gets now that they stay together at night. It’s stirred up her concern more than ever—enough to have brought up the subject just the other day. Satsuki hadn’t had an answer for her. Even now, she has no answer for her. All she knows is that the nights are more bearable when they spend them together.

Except for tonight, apparently. It’s the first time since before the arrest that she’s woken to full on panic. And it’s the first time she’s had to deal with it with another person in the room. But it isn’t so bad now that it’s ebbed away enough for her to think straight. When she looks at Ryuko, a sudden and unexpected urge for intimacy hits her.

It takes her by surprise, and leaves her feeling selfish. What right does she have to impose such a passing want on someone? Even though the thought’s now crossed her mind, she would never wake Ryuko for something like that. Just to feed her worry.

Despite it all, the longer Satsuki lies awake, the more the dreadful feeling at the pit of her stomach outweighs her hesitance. It feels right, safe, when she shifts to the corner of her pillow so that she’s lying right beside Ryuko. She dares scoot the rest of the way, so that their skin brushes. Ryuko stirs. Satsuki’s heart picks up in her chest when she sees her eyes open an instant before closing again.

Ryuko turns onto her side so that they’re facing each other, and though she’s still mostly sleeping, manages to sling her arm over Satsuki to cradle her close. The limp weight of it over her shoulders feels so comforting and real that she forgets how to breathe for an instant. She relaxes when she’s certain Ryuko’s fallen right to sleep again, when she feels her steady breath tickling her hair. She presses herself closer into her chest, into the curl of her shoulders, and buries her face against the fabric of her shirt. It smells like her—a sleepy sort of musk, a scent that can’t be described as anything but Ryuko’s. Her heart hums happily as she lets her sister’s embrace sooth away her worry.

She wakes in the morning to Ryuko still holding her securely to her chest, with her hand tangled loosely in her hair. Groggy ‘good morning’s are exchanged once they’ve stirred about enough to know the other’s woken. If Ryuko noticed Satsuki’s waking in the middle of the night, she doesn’t make mention of it.

 

 

That afternoon, Satsuki is halfway through scratching an _x_ at the top of yet another CV when Soroi interrupts her. “You’re in a bright mood again today.” She almost smiles as she takes the piece of paper and sorts it into a pile along with the rest of the rejects.

“Is that so?” she asks. If her smile hasn’t yet reached her eyes, it certainly bleeds through in her voice. “Must be my passion for reviewing applications.”

“Surely being disjunct from that company plays a part. But there’s a new lightness that’s picked you up by the shoulders. Whatever it might be.”

Satsuki pauses to lift her head up from her work. He’s sitting across the desk from her, with his own pile of résumés to sift through. There’s an unspoken tenderness in the way he looks at her that washes her back in time for a moment—she remembers when they were closer, before she started hiding away pieces of herself, before she couldn’t stand to meet his eyes sometimes. That closeness had slowly started to rebuild between them as soon as Ragyo died. 

“You’re talkative today, Soroi,” she tells him.

“I’m just glad to see you happy.”

She hasn’t paid any particular attention to her mood over the past few days, but she does suppose it’s gotten better. It’s certain that it hasn’t plummeted the way it usually does after a few good days—at least not to the extent that she might expect. Ryuko does make her happy. Ryuko makes her happier than anything or anyone she’s ever known. The implications of the emotional reliance there scare her a bit. There’s no denying she’d hit record lows during Ryuko’s unexplained weeklong absence. “ _Things to work on_ ,” she thinks.

She and Soroi wrap up their work for the day once they’ve narrowed their pool of candidates to let into the new company, and she invites him to stay a while longer. They talk over tea, about nothing in particular, until the sun’s just about begun to set. She walks him to the door afterwards, and a moment passes as they’re standing at the threshold where Satsuki thinks they might share a hug in parting. But they don’t. They’ve always been reserved people, and a knowing look is more than enough to relay the sentiment.

Ryuko comes in on her bike just as Soroi reaches his car, and stops to chat with him briefly on her way to the front door. Satsuki watches their interaction—the way Ryuko gesticulates as she speaks, and the way Soroi listens attentively. These two people are undeniably her family, in a way that perhaps even the former Elites might never be.

With a quick wave of her hand and a couple steps back, Ryuko bids him farewell before turning to walk up the rest of the driveway. She takes the steps up to the front door in a single hop—with perhaps a smidge too much air for a normal human—and lands with enough force that Satsuki steps to the side to avoid a collision.

“You have a good day?” Ryuko asks as she lets her momentum carry her inside. She slips her shoes off and, bubbling with a sudden happy energy, uses her socks to slide against the hardwood floor to where Satsuki is standing.

“Yes, it was good,” she says. Their toes bump together and she smiles a little. She closes the front door with a small shove of her foot.

“Oi, I saw that,” Ryuko says, pointing a finger at the door. “Now you can’t tell me not to do it.”

“I didn’t _kick_ it shut.”

“Whatever, still counts.”

Satsuki hums, letting it go, then asks, “How was your day?”

“Good. Great, actually,” Ryuko tells her. The question seems to remind her she’s still wearing her backpack, so she slips it off and leans it against the wall by the stairs, so that she won’t forget it on her way up later. “The rain actually let up enough that I got to walk around a bit. It was nice. The parks are muddy as all hell, though. Had to stay off the grass."

Satsuki follows her as she moves, listening to her every word. Ryuko turns to her, hands planted over her hips, and asks, “Soroi stayed pretty late, huh? Lotta work to do?”

“No it wasn’t bad at all.” She’s scooted closer and Ryuko grabs her hands to link their fingers. Satsuki notices the way it already has her blushing. “Do you have work to do tonight?”

“Nah,” she says.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“No. Don’t got any work.”

Satsuki hums again and leans down to kiss her. Ryuko’s flushed when she pulls away, but manages a teasing grin when she asks, “You miss me?”

“Perhaps.”

“I saw you this morning, you dork. And all last night.”

“So you didn’t miss me, then?” She kisses her cheek now, and continues on to her jaw as she awaits Ryuko’s answer.

“N-No, I missed you,” she admits, moving to catch her lips again. Satsuki pulls one of her hands free of Ryuko’s to move it over the nape of her neck.

“Good. I missed you, too,” she says.

Satsuki takes a step forward, bumping their hips together, prompting Ryuko to move back against the wall behind her. Their mouths pull apart with a wet smack and Satsuki moves her other hand to join the one already creeping up into Ryuko’s hair. She pulls lightly. Ryuko’s eyes flutter half-closed, and her lips part.

She tilts her head back so that Satsuki can kiss her properly, and makes a sound low in her throat when the hand in her hair continues to fist and tug against her. Satsuki pushes into her in response.

“This is addicting,” Satsuki pulls away just enough to say. “Almost worrisomely so.”

“Yea? Didn’t know I was that good a kisser.” Satsuki huffs at that, but leans in past her cheek to kiss the corner of her jaw. She mouths wet kisses against her ear, and holds her steady when she shudders against her.

Ryuko’s hands against her hips pull her in closer, so that their feet are staggered. When her thigh presses up between her legs, Satsuki gasps and lets go of the soft spot on her earlobe. Ryuko seizes the opportunity to nuzzle up beneath her neck. With a small bump of her nose against her jaw, she prompts her to tilt her head back.

Satsuki hesitates for an instant. Her heart beats so fast she’s sure Ryuko can see her pulse throbbing in her neck. She doesn’t have an issue with kissing, so why should there be issue with this? It’s just another part of her body. A part that has her feeling increasingly vulnerable as she exposes the column of her throat. But this is Ryuko. She trusts Ryuko.

Her breath hitches when she places her lips against her pulse. Ryuko stays there for several long seconds before drawing back, and repeating the kiss an inch lower, more openmouthed this time. It feels good—she knows it in the warmth between her legs as Ryuko presses into her, and in the way her breath shakes when she sighs.

But somewhere in her head their lies an impasse. She pushes against it, wants to enjoy the feeling of Ryuko’s tongue against her skin, and the arousal it brings. The internal conflict is put to an end when the warmth against her neck begins to draw away. Ryuko lets go of her hips and eases her off her thigh. Only then does Satsuki really become aware of how fast her heart is pounding, of how her breathing comes in a bit too quickly.

She leans down to kiss Ryuko on the mouth again. She’s met with a small bump to the forehead when they pull away. Ryuko’s gaze is intense enough to placate her. She finds Satsuki’s hand and links their fingers together again.

“You gotta tell me when yer not ok,” she says.

“I am okay.”

“You didn’t tell me to stop. What if I hadn’t?”

Satsuki frowns. “I would have told you.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, I promise.” There’s a feeling in her throat like she’s choking and she wants this conversation to end. She wishes it wouldn't have to come up every time they tried to be more intimate.

“Ok,” Ryuko says. She caresses the sides of her arms with the tips of her fingers. “I’m not dumb, y’know? I can tell when something’s wrong.”

Satsuki nods. “I know. Thank you.” _Thank you for understanding._ She doesn’t need to elaborate for Ryuko to know what she means.

 

  

The humidity outside that night is thick enough to feel slick against the skin, so they close the window’s they’d opened in the morning, when it’d been nicer. Ryuko lies over the sheets on her bed, wearing an old zip-up hoodie and shorts, playing on her DS—with the headphones in—while Satsuki sits beside her, reading. Once she grows bored, she closes it without bothering to save, yanks out her headphones, and tosses it all onto the nightstand just off to her left. She shoves her hands into her pockets, and lets them rest there, over her belly.

She and Satsuki have been sharing a bed the past handful of nights—whose bed usually depends on whether Ryuko needs to stay up later doing work or not. Though, perhaps out of tradition for the night it all started, they do seem to end up more frequently in Ryuko’s room. The arrangement is one she has few complaints about, but it does compromise her privacy.

In short, she can’t quite take care of herself in every way she likes with Satsuki in the room. And Satsuki lending a hand doesn’t quite seem a near possibility yet. There are only so many hours in the day that they’re at home, and not together.

Ryuko wonders, and, after a couple minutes of deliberation not unnoticed by Satsuki, works up the courage to say, “Hey, can I ask you a question?” The way her cheeks have pinked over puckers Satsuki’s interest. She closes her book, sets it aside, and pushes her glasses back up from where they’ve slipped down the bridge of her nose.

“Always,” she says. Ryuko shifts her eyes away, preferring to look up at the ceiling, and thinks suddenly that maybe she shouldn’t ask. Curiosity gnaws at her—and besides, this’ll help her understand Satsuki a bit better. Maybe even open up some closed doors.

“Well, I, uh. I was just wonderin’,” she starts off, playing with the seams on the inside of her pockets. “Y’know, when you’re all wound up or whatever—D-D’you ever… take care of it? Y’know what I’m sayin’. Help yourself relieve some tension?” She looks back towards Satsuki, hoping her somewhat vague question won’t need any further explanation.

One of Satsuki’s eyebrows quirks up, almost disappears behind her bangs. The corner of her mouth curls slightly so she’s just smirking. “Do I masturbate?” she synthesizes Ryuko’s question on her behalf.

“Y-Yea,” Ryuko says. If she wasn’t blushing before, she certainly is now.

Satsuki shrugs. “Sure. I imagine everyone does, at least to a degree.” Now that puts a dozen more filthy thoughts in Ryuko’s head, and confirms others she’s had in passing. But she files them away.

“So that’s a yes, then? It’s kinda a yes or no question,” Ryuko says.

“…I don’t do it all that often—I tend to think of it more as maintenance than anything else,” Satsuki admits. “Bodies have needs. And they function better when those needs are met.”

“So, what, it’s all business, no pleasure?”

“It doesn’t make much sense given the business is pleasure in this case, but yes, maybe. I think it’s a little bit like that.” She pauses to stare at the wall on the other end of the room. “Not that it doesn’t feel good. I wouldn’t do it otherwise.”

“You don’t do it, just like, for the sake of it?”

Ryuko can hear her thinking. Satsuki looks down at her, to keep from losing herself in her head. It puts her back in the present moment. “Sometimes I get… uncomfortable. Probably because I’m thinking too hard. Or maybe because I’m not thinking at all, and something else takes over. I don’t know. It can get unsettling sometimes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Satsuki says with maybe too much force. “You haven’t done anything.”

“I-I know. I’m just sayin’ I’m sorry to hear it.”

“I’m not looking for pity.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

Satsuki sighs, closes her eyes, and tries to dispel some of the frustration rising in her chest. It’s mostly self-directed, and she doesn’t want to snap at Ryuko for no reason. When she feels level again, she looks at Ryuko and continues, “Otherwise it’s fine. It helps me relax most of the time.”

“That’s good,” Ryuko tells her.

“I have a good amount of fantasies, too. At least my imagination does some good to balance out the bad in that regard.” She looks like she’s going to add something, but doesn’t.

That last bit makes Ryuko think of another question—one that’s perhaps more relevant to the state of things between them. “So is, uh… is s-sex and stuff somethin’ you want?” she asks. She feels herself grow warm again, but forces herself to maintain eye contact when she speaks. “Like, i-is it something you wanna work towards?”

“In all honesty, I don’t think I can fully consider it at the moment,” she admits. “Yes, it’s something I want. I’ve just never given it much thought in the past. And I don’t know how far off the possibility lies.”

“Ya don’t need to know,” Ryuko assures her. She extends her arm to place it lightly over her leg. Satsuki moves to take her hand in her own, and rubs her thumb back and forth across her skin.

“I would like to get there, though,” she says. “I want to give to you in every sense imaginable. Physical pleasure included.” Blood rushes to Ryuko’s face so quickly at her bluntness she almost stops breathing. She tears her eyes away from Satsuki’s to try and find some cool again.

But Satsuki shifts close to her on the mattress and leans down to brush their lips together. Ryuko keeps her there only with a kiss, and doesn’t use her arms to pull her in any further than she’s come. This is the most Satsuki’s ever spoken so openly with her, and she doesn’t want to make her shy away.

The metal piece of her zipper is cold against her chest, where Satsuki presses it to her skin as she plays with it. “You don’t have to wait for me, you know,” Satsuki whispers. She pulls back slightly to look at her. Her eyes are hungry, eager. Ryuko loses the ability to speak for a second. Those damn glasses don’t help.

Satsuki is petting at her collarbones, and the zipper of Ryuko’s hoodie slips down to make room for her hand. She follows it with her fingers to touch the soft skin between her breasts. But Ryuko quickly stops her by taking her wrist and pulling it back up to guide her hand against her face.

“Nah, it doesn’t work like that,” she tells her. Satsuki’s expression is unreadable for a few seconds, and then she leans down to place a short kiss over her lips.

“If you’re sure.”

“’Course I’m sure,” Ryuko says. “It’s gotta be even. Tit for tit, as the case may be.” She reaches down and pulls the zipper back up her chest.

“Clever,” Satsuki says, though she doesn’t sound too impressed. Ryuko smiles and pulls her arms around her neck to drag her down into a hug. Satsuki takes her glasses off when the frames press uncomfortably against her face, and Ryuko steals them from her before she can set them down. She puts them on, blinks a few times as she tries to readjust her vision, and looks over at Satsuki with a proud smile on her face.

“How much hotter do I look?” she asks. Satsuki raises an eyebrow as she looks her over.

“You’re always pretty,” she says eventually. Ryuko flushes and takes the glasses off, returning them back to her. Satsuki’s straightforwardness certainly isn’t anything new, but it feels it given the context.

“Here, they look nicer on ya.”

Satsuki pulls her forward now that she’s set the glasses aside, and kisses her a long while. Ryuko’s learned what places are safe to touch in the past few days—there aren’t many, so it isn’t hard to remember—and she sticks to them undeviatingly. Her back is one of them, so she moves her fingers up beneath her shirt and drags her nails in patterns over her skin. They’re short, but they do the trick. Satsuki relaxes in her arms and presses them closer together. She makes a small noise and pulls their lips apart.

“At least I can kiss you,” she says as she brings one finger up to trace Ryuko’s bottom lip. Ryuko kisses the tip of it and watches as the soft blush over Satsuki’s cheeks deepens.

“That’s plenty. There’s no rush.”

“I suppose not.”

“We’ll work on it together.”

Satsuki nods.

“Just let me know if ya ever wanna try something.”

“I will.”

Ryuko leans forward so their foreheads are touching, and lets their noses bump together. If it takes Satsuki a lifetime to become comfortable with more than kissing, then so be it. She wouldn't trade it for the universe. Her heart is already so full, she worries it’ll burst if and when they try much else. Just being this close together makes her feel happily dizzy. Satsuki is unquestionably her favorite person ever, and always will be. There are words resting at the tip of Ryuko’s tongue, which she nervously forces back down, and doesn’t dare say just yet.

“Hey,” she says instead, when something else comes to mind. “How long were you up for last night? When you woke up?”

Satsuki shrugs and says, “I don’t really know. I didn’t have the time on me, and I didn’t think to check. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Next time that happens—if you want me to hang around with you, you can wake me up.”

“No, that isn’t fair to you,” she tells her.

“If it’s what you need, I’m telling ya you can go ahead.”

“I think I actually prefer being alone when I wake up like that,” Satsuki admits. “But having you nearby really helped afterwards.”

“Yea?”

Satsuki nods. “I was able to fall asleep pretty quickly again.”

“Glad I could help.”

A pause.

“You can talk to me about it if you ever want,” Ryuko tells her, echoing what she’s already said in the past. “If it helps get things off your chest.”

“Thank you,” Satsuki says, but she doesn’t add anything beyond that.

Ryuko holds her when they fall asleep that night, and Satsuki manages not to wake until morning. There’s a small wet stain over Ryuko’s pillow, pressed right up by her cheek. She wouldn’t ever have imagined that she’d stand to let anyone drool so near her head, but because it’s Ryuko, she finds she doesn’t care. It’s almost cute—a defining sleeping habit, along with the way her shirt rides up thanks to the hand tucked over her belly. And it’s a small price to pay for the warm feeling of being held through the night.


	24. Chapter 24

There’s a slim brick building pressed between two lofty residential ones near the heart of downtown. Its bones are old, but that it’s seen kind treatment over the past several decades is evident in the maintenance of the hardwood flooring, the seals over the windows, the refinishing of the beams running across the ceilings. A zigzagging staircase with chipped metal railing—nothing that can’t be done over—connects the first two floors, and stretches on still to reach the third. Ryuko takes the steps up with as much weight into the ball of her foot as she can manage, to test whether they’ll creak or crack given the right amount of pressure. Though it would have been well-earned karma for trying the as of yet unrenovated building, she reaches the landing without incident.

Dust has settled in a thicker layer here than on the floor below, and there’s no shortage of stray items for it to cling to—old ladders left behind, a few sheets crumpled beneath a window at the far end of the room. Objects that look as though they’ve gone undisturbed for a few years at the very least. She walks purposefully towards a set of large plywood sheets propped up against the wall, and with the tips of her fingers only, leafs through them to examine their state. They fall back against each other when she lets go, puffing out a cloud of dust that has her eyes itching when it hits her before she has time to back away.

“Oi, we can keep anything left in here, yea?” she calls across the room, after huffing a few times to clear the air around her. Satsuki’s just made it up the stairs.

“We can, but I don’t see why we’d want to.”

“These are in good shape.” She pats the edge of the stack of plywood she’s found. “I wanna use them, for painting on.”

“Help yourself. I was going to have them thrown out anyway.”

“You don’t mind if they go in your car?”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind if you tried to shake some of the dust loose first,” Satsuki tells her. She’s closed the distance between them now, and runs her fingers against the plywood before holding them out for Ryuko to see the film of grey they’ve taken away. She brushes her hands together a couple times to rid herself of it.

“Done. Man, I’m excited now. Wanna try some spray painting stuff, I think these are the perfect size.”

Satsuki hums as she watches Ryuko lift the sheets off the wall and shift them over along the floor, ready to carry them back towards the staircase. “I think you have quite a knack for the whole painting thing,” she says after a second. “…If you’d consider it, I’d love to have some pieces here, once the office space is set up properly.”

“What, like to hang on the walls?”

“No, on the ceiling.”

Ryuko rolls her eyes. “I mean—sure. Some of them are kinda personal, but others aren’t so much that I mind other people seeing ‘em. People that aren’t you, I mean. Though they’re not all that good, y’know. You might want something more professional to decorate with.”

“Don’t undersell yourself,” Satsuki tells her. “I’d love to have even just one, to put in my office. If you’re all right with the idea, of course. Professionalism isn’t necessarily a determiner of quality... I don’t want to pressure you, though.”

She nods. “Yea, I’ll think on it.”

Ryuko ends up snagging an abandoned rag off the floor to dust the slates with. She stands outside, with the sun hot against her shoulders where her tank top leaves them exposed, and sets herself to it as Satsuki disappears around the corner to get the car. She opens the trunk for Ryuko when she returns, and helps her lay them there flat.

“All in all, what do you think of the place?” Satsuki asks her, nodding towards the building, now locked by the key she’s tucked into the back pocket of her jeans.

“Yea, I like it. It’s got character, but it’s not… ostentatious? Lavish?”

“Ostentatious.”

“Right. And it fits the bill.”

Satsuki hums as she stares at the building’s front, lip pouting the slightest bit as her thoughts drift away. It makes Ryuko want to kiss her, but she stifles the urge as she reminds herself they’re in public. She wraps her arms loosely around her waist instead, and pushes her playfully into walking backwards and away from where the trunk door hangs overhead. A soft hand against her shoulders tells her to extricate herself from the lazy embrace.

They’re about to shut the trunk when Satsuki has a thought, and says, “Hey, don’t you need to sand those down before you paint them?” Ryuko shrugs in response.

“Not necessarily. Though that’s not a bad idea. Maybe I’ll pick up some stuff for it this week.”

“Let’s go now,” she suggests. “To the art supply store.”

“Yea? Sure, if you’re down.” She perks up at the offer—she’d foreseen the rest of her Sunday being spent quietly at home together with Satsuki, but there are still enough hours in the day to squeeze in a shopping trip, too. “You know where it is? I’ll drive.” She reaches forward to hook her finger into her sister’s front pocket, where she knows she’s stored away the keys, and tugs lightly. Satsuki takes Ryuko’s hand and pulls it gently away before getting them herself, and handing them to her.

It takes only a small detour from their route home to get to the store. The parking lot’s practically empty, with a couple errant carts scattered randomly between spaces. Ryuko grabs one of them on their way to the entrance, kicking hard off the ground, riding it straight through the sliding doors and past Satsuki.

She finds the section full of spray paint at the back of the store, and tosses several cans to her liking into the cart before joining Satsuki again in a different aisle. She lets herself slide with the cart until she bumps her softly against the hip. The wheels come to a halt as her feet seek the floor. But, having miscalculated her weight as a point of counterbalance, the front of the cart suddenly lifts up.

Before she can fall, Satsuki’s hand against the basket saves her. She keeps it there, to steady it, and gives her a look out the corner of her eye. “Careful,” she tells her.

“I wasn’t gonna fall.” She gets a hum for an answer as her sister returns her attention to the pegboarded items over the wall facing them. There’s a small box in her hand that Ryuko’s only just noticed. She holds it out vaguely in her direction, wrist bent.

“Here, I think this is the biggest sanding block they have,” Satsuki says. “Do you think it’ll work?” Ryuko takes it from her and inspects the box for no more than a full second.

“Yea, looks good.”

“Are you sure? I’m realizing a trip to a hardware store might’ve been more fruitful… We can go to one, if you’d like.”

“Nah, honestly, this is fine.” She tosses the boxed sand block into the cart so it sends the bottles of paint clanking against each other. Satsuki waits for her to pull the cart past her down the aisle, so that they can walk side by side.

“Ready to leave, then?”

“Yep, all set.”

Only Ryuko stops several times on their way to the front of the store, to dig through bins full of on-sale items, or to read through the little tags on labels, remembering brand names for future reference. Satsuki doesn’t protest when a few more items join the others at the bottom of the cart, but leans over to examine them quickly nonetheless.

“Coloring books?” She raises an eyebrow but there’s a smile in her voice that Ryuko easily picks up.

“Yea, why not?” she replies. “It’ll be fun. Those are the adult ones, too, or whatever. The designs inside are really cool.” She drops a couple boxes of colored pencils over the books as she speaks. “Here, we’ll get these, too. And I have some markers at home.”

“Perfect.”

Ryuko grins. “You know what else is perfect?”

“Careful, I hear my ego’s easily subject to inflation.”

Something of a chortle, and then, “You serious right now?”

“Was I on the mark?”

Ryuko shrugs, but there’s something playful in her eyes. “I’ll give your ego the benefit of the doubt.” Satsuki just barely rolls her eyes and there’s a half-smile on her lips as she turns around, tugging the cart along with her as she heads towards the line of cash registers.

They pay and load everything into the car, over the stack of plywood lain at the bottom of the trunk, and drive home with the sound of spray paint bottles rattling together every time they make a turn.

An easel now occupies one corner of Ryuko’s room, and there’s a table beside it crowded with paints, supporting canvases leaned up against its legs to dry. So they carry the day’s findings to the vacant room downstairs, for the sake of space, rather than hauling everything upstairs—which works out fine, because she intends on sanding and painting the wood outside, and the trip there will be shorter this way.

When all’s said and done, it’s later in the evening than either of them had anticipated. They start up dinner together in the kitchen. Ryuko leaves to take a shower after chopping through all the vegetables to stew, and returns in time for Satsuki to do the same as she takes her place watching over the food. She makes it back downstairs, with wetted hair, wrapped in her bathrobe, just as everything finishes cooking.

“Ryuko, we might get them dirty,” Satsuki tells her when she finds that her sister’s gone and placed the coloring books they bought earlier over the table in the living room. She pushes them lightly aside to make room for the bowl in her hand as she settles down.

“Suit yourself, I’m starting mine.” She sits right beside her on the floor, in the space between the table and the couch, as she leafs through one of the coloring books with one hand, and stirs her stew with the other. Sharing space, or minimizing what of it exists between them, has become something of a natural habit in the past couple of weeks.

Satsuki watches as Ryuko multitasks eating and opening the new colored pencils. She goes back on her previous thought quickly enough, and eventually joins her by grabbing a coloring book of her own. The designs on each of the pages are intricate to an almost ridiculous degree—she suspects any one of them could take easily over an hour or two to finish.

As soon as she’s brought the tip of a pencil to the page, Ryuko leans over and kisses her over the cheek. Satsuki turns to kiss her on the lips instead, and Ryuko lingers just long enough to keep it chaste.

“Ya tryin’ to distract me?” she asks with a small smile.

“Of course. I have catching up to do.” She nods towards Ryuko’s own page, which is already colored in a fair bit. But Ryuko’s the one to lean back in for a second kiss before turning her attention to her book again. She’s lost count of the number of times it’s been now, but the same novel warmth still tickles her belly every time their lips touch. She can tell her cheeks have pinked. Her gaze remains unfocused over the page as she tries to remember exactly which pencil she’d been using, and where she’d been laying color down. Satsuki does something to befuddle her thoughts.

Once they’ve found a comfortable silence to work rhythmically to, time seems to draw away around them until they’ve no measure for it but the amount of coloring they’ve gotten through. Ryuko’s turned her body slightly, angling into Satsuki’s space so that their legs touch together. When she shifts to readjust her position, it happens to break Satsuki’s focus enough for her to realize she’s probably leaning far too close to the page for it to be any good for her eyes. She blinks a few times, and then looks Ryuko’s way to find her so concentrated the tip of her tongue peeks out where she’s bitten it between her lips.

That concentration is broken as soon as Satsuki springs a question on her, “Did you take to this often, when you were little?” There’s something of a questioning tone to the hum she receives in answer, so she goes on, “Coloring, I mean.” Ryuko lifts her head and their eyes meet an instant before she shifts them away again as she thinks.

“I guess so,” she says. “I actually had some problems in school—y’know, getting all fidgety and stuff, especially when I was real little. More than other kids. They said it was ‘cause I was getting bored, but either way, they had to find stuff to help me concentrate or keep busy. Teachers made me color a lot.”

“Did it help?”

“Yea, I think so. I really liked it—I liked drawing, too, when I was home.” She pauses, playing with the pencil between her fingers before picking up a different one. “… I feel like I remember being really young, and Dad letting me into his work space to draw next to him while he was doing stuff.”

Satsuki waits a while, counts a few of her heartbeats until she’s sure Ryuko isn’t going to continue. And when she starts coloring again, she chimes in herself, “I used to like it, too. I think it was a good outlet before I turned more to writing and reading…” A memory hits her that feels right to share. “There are some drawings around… I don’t know where they are, but I must have stuffed them into a box somewhere. When I drew myself, or my family, sometimes I would add a little sister into the picture with me.” She says it lightly, a small change in inflection that might have turned to a bashful laugh in anyone else.

Ryuko’s mind buzzes and her pulse rushes strongly against her neck. There’s a sudden tension in her that she has a hard time identifying—happiness is one component, but there’s nervousness there, too.

“Yea? Did it look anything like me?” she asks lightly. The way her eyes dart Satsuki’s way betrays her curiosity.

“My stick figures, unfortunately, weren’t very hyper realistic. But I suppose I drew you the same way I drew myself, only a little smaller.” She looks at Ryuko and her eyes are smiling. “I didn’t imagine your feathery hair, or your red streak, though.”

Ryuko surprises Satsuki by dropping what she’s doing, and scooting back with a small push of her hands against the floor. Her fingers find the corner of the page of her coloring book to play with. There’s something tentative in her eyes when she probes, “What kinda stuff did you imagine? Y’know, not just how I looked, or whatever—but other stuff about me.”

The question takes her off guard, and she, too, leans away from the table. But she keeps a pencil in her hands, and plays with it absent-mindedly as she thinks. Ryuko holds her silence, gives her time without pushing even though she’s itching to hear an answer.

She watches as a smile slowly creeps over Satsuki’s face, and then dies down as she pulls herself back into the moment. “Maybe the sister I imagined had a bit of a softer temper,” she teases eventually. “Less of a rebel.”

“Like you’re one to talk.”

That earns her a small laugh. Satsuki then grows quiet again, swallows, and continues, “But in all seriousness, I don’t think I can say I had any fixed image of my little sister when I was growing up—a wondering, rather. I wondered what she’d be like, and how things would be different if she were with me. No bound notion of character.”

Ryuko’s about to respond, but Satsuki isn’t done speaking. She can tell by the look in her eye that she’s sifting through things in her head, so she waits, and eventually, Satsuki picks up a train of thought and latches onto it.

“It’s somewhat strange, in hindsight, to realize that someone I knew so little of was such a large part of my life, and occupied so much of my thoughts. Simply imagining my sister, reminding myself of her, pulled me through the worst of it. Some days, when dead ends caught me at every corner, the thought of her picked me up. As though slipping up, or turning tail, would mean a failure for the both of us.

Had I imagined her concretely enough to see her in you when we met three years ago? No. The thought never even crossed my mind beyond maybe registering that you were just about the right age. But at that point I’d given up entirely on deluding myself as to the possibility—my sister was so certainly dead that I didn’t entertain the thought.”

“Sure, that makes sense,” Ryuko manages after a pause, not knowing which way to let her emotions lean, and not wanting to say the wrong thing. “I mean, it would have been wild if you managed to make the connection, right? Plus I was kind of a pain in the ass back then. Doubt you had any inclination to think of me that way.”

“I hope you know I never hated you,” Satsuki tells her. “I understand why you would have hated me—or resented me, especially in regards to the way I treated you—but I had nothing against you… It was quite the opposite, actually. You did aggravate me at times, but otherwise I liked you, and respected your tenacity, if anything. You were something of an extra surge of hope during what I’d assumed to be the most important, and most dangerous, part of my life at that point.”

She then reminds herself of what Ryuko had asked earlier, and the anxious energy surrounding that question. She drives her point home by going on, “In that sense, perhaps you, the Ryuko I know today, and the sister I imagined all those years growing up are similar. Either way, that old image is one that’s faded in places, and bled into you in others. You’re one and the same, but you’re also untethered because this… is so much better than anything I could have thought up. There’s no comparison to be made. You’re Ryuko, first and foremost, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

Ryuko blinks and turns her head away when she realizes that tears are backing in her eyes, and she clears her throat quietly as she regains her composure. Satsuki reads too well into her—had accurately pinpointed her worry, whether she herself had known it to be there or not, and soothed it away with just enough words.

“I didn’t hate you,” she says quietly after a minute. Her voice falters more than she’d like it to. Satsuki’s gone and grabbed her hand, and she squeezes gently against her fingers. “I acted really angry when I was at Honnouji, but it wasn’t like that. You saw how messed up I was that first time I met Nui. I just didn’t really know what else to do, how to process things.” She forces herself to laugh a little, and adds, “You did piss me off a little, though.”

“Well, we’re both fairly stubborn.”

“Serious, though,” Ryuko tells her. “Thanks for sayin’ that stuff. It makes me feel less sad about it, in a way, to know that you were thinking of me somehow all that time. Like—I dunno…” She has to stop, and forces herself to calm down with steady breaths. She doesn’t want her voice to crack. “I know it doesn’t technically change anything, but still. It feels different to me, knowing that, and hearing it.”

Satsuki slides the rest of the distance between them and bends to place a kiss against her shoulder. “I’ll tell you as many times as you’d like, how much it is you mean to me.” She nuzzles up against her hair. “Doubly so, to make up for that time lost.”

A hand brushes her hair aside, and Ryuko almost shakes when Satsuki kisses her neck lovingly. Unhurried, she travels down to the juncture of her shoulder. Ryuko can do little else but sit still in an effort not to grow overwhelmed. She doesn’t realize she’s been holding her breath until Satsuki makes it back up to her ear. “Ryuko,” she breathes there. “My Ryuko.”

Ryuko almost whines and Satsuki tightens her arms around her, moves her attention along her jaw. “There’s no one I cherish more in the world,” she says between kisses. Ryuko feels herself burning from the chest up, and she finally finds it in herself to bring her hand against Satsuki’s face, to coax her up knowing she won’t accidentally tear up again in the process. They kiss slowly, drawing away now and then for their gazes to meet. And when Satsuki leans back against the couch, Ryuko follows her so that their lips won’t part.

“Come here,” Satsuki disengages just long enough to say, encouraging her forward. Ryuko swings one leg out to straddle her lap and threads her fingers up through the back of her hair once she’s settled. She stares at her a while—studies her eyes, her lips and the way they part the slightest bit as she scratches against her scalp.

Satsuki’s hands at her waist shift until she’s pulled Ryuko into a tight hug, and then she pulls back just enough to speckle kisses against the column of her throat.

“Sats,” she says. She wants to say much more to relay her affection, but Satsuki moves back up to catch her lips tenderly, and she can’t think to put what she’s feeling into words. It doesn’t help now that her hands have started to caress the skin at her back. “Sats,” Ryuko tries again when Satsuki shifts back to catch her breath.

“Yes?” Something in her expression must be cause for concern, because Satsuki immediately follows up with, “Are you alright?”

“Yea, ‘course. Just—I feel…” She motions with her hands, then places one of them against Satsuki’s chest, close to her heart, fisting into her bathrobe. “I dunno, like it’s overwhelming, but in a good way. I care ‘bout you and you mean so much I can feel it right here.”

Satsuki’s expression softens. “Am I going to break you if I keep kissing you?” she jokes. Ryuko laughs a little.

“Nah, I’m good.” She leans forward and kisses her with the same slowness as before, and it has her humming against her lips. Satsuki traces the tips of her fingers against every part of her skin she can find, starting at her face, and trailing down to her collarbones. Then her arms, and her back, where he shirt’s ridden up.

“Ryuko,” Satsuki says as her fingers inch up along her ribs. She counts them by touch as she holds her gaze. “I’d like to see you, if you’re okay with taking this off.”

Ryuko hesitates an instant, but it isn’t long enough for Satsuki to notice. In just a short span of time, they’ve made good progress with approaching intimacy—Satsuki usually seems a great deal more comfortable with trying something if Ryuko’s been on the receiving end first. There’s an emotional need, too, that seems only satisfied the more they share, and that urge helps them smooth out rougher patches they come across. Ryuko nods, and adds, “Yea,” to let Satsuki know it’s alright.

Satsuki’s hands beneath her shirt sidle up to the sides of her breasts in passing as she takes her time taking it off for her. Ryuko raises her arms to help, and then, once she’s stripped of her shirt, unconsciously folds them back in on herself. She isn’t wearing a bra, and the air in the room suddenly feels much cooler than before. Fingers slot between her own as Satsuki takes her hands and kisses her until she’s relaxed again. Her arms slowly drop away from her chest to hold Satsuki’s face instead.

When she pulls back to look at her, the way her eyes grow dark with want has Ryuko flushing. “You’re beautiful,” Satsuki tells her.

“Th-thanks.”

She lays her palm between Ryuko’s breasts and strokes her there as she nudges her head up to kiss beneath her jaw. She feels her heart pounding against her hand. “Are you nervous?”

“A little, not really,” she says, and Satsuki can feel her swallow with her lips against her throat. “You can touch me, if that’s what yer askin’.” Satsuki hums and takes her time following just the swell of her breasts, and skimming her thumbs where they curve below.

Ryuko shifts closer to her all the while, back arching the slightest bit. A breathy laugh escapes her. “Ah—it kinda tickles.”

“In a good way?”

“Yea.” Her breath stills when Satsuki brushes her nipples. But then she draws away again, this time to take her fully in her hands. Ryuko grows more vocal as she continues playing with her, gasping when she pinches down even with the slightest pressure.

“You’re sensitive,” Satsuki observes. She can’t help but bring her hand up to cup her cheek momentarily when she sees how red she’s flushed, but it quickly falls back down again.

“I’m just—not used to this, is all.”

Satsuki hums as she kisses lower along her collarbones, shifting her hips to raise Ryuko higher. Her fingers, rolling her nipple gently between her knuckles, move aside to make room for her mouth. Soft and warm, it draws out a high-pitched sound from the back of Ryuko’s throat. If Satsuki was measuring her pace before, she seems to pay less attention to it now. The noises Ryuko makes are all the more reason not to pull away for even an instant.

“That feels good,” Ryuko tells her with one hand fisting into her hair, and the other at her side, when Satsuki sucks against her in just the right way. But she’s practically panting, so she’s sure she doesn’t need to be told as much. The amount of attention Satsuki’s paying her is almost reverent, especially in the way she kisses softly, and adjusts herself to every sound that leaves her lips.

“Sats,” she says after a bit. “Can I..?” She trails off partially because a moan interferes with her ability to form the rest of the sentence. Her hand finds the edge of Satsuki’s bathrobe, and she gently touches the skin right under it.

Satsuki pauses, leans away from Ryuko’s chest until their eyes meet, and then returns to where she was before. She nips the side of her breast, Ryuko draws in a quick breath, and she says, “Yes, go ahead.”

She reaches to loosen the knot over her bathrobe herself, but lets Ryuko slide both sides open and off her shoulders. “Do you wanna switch?” Ryuko asks, suddenly pausing, because she knows now Satsuki often feels better when she’s positioned on top.

“No, I quite like it right here,” she says before pulling one of her nipples into her mouth again. Ryuko whines when she tugs a bit too hard, but manages to hold her concentration to go on returning the attention. Satsuki’s breasts are soft in her hands, and her nipples harden quickly when her fingers find them.

“You good?” she checks in.

“Yes.”

Satsuki’s soon sighing against her chest, and her quiet, barely-there noises only make Ryuko grow louder in turn. Pressure’s building between her legs and she starts to sway her hips—and she thinks, if this keeps up, she might actually climax from Satsuki’s mouth against her breasts alone.

It doesn’t quite get there, though. Her nipples are almost too sensitive, and eventually, Satsuki comes back up to kiss her lips. She shifts so that they’re closer to being eye-to-eye again, and Ryuko draws back to look at her. Satsuki’s cheeks are pink, and her breasts move with the rise and fall of her chest, a bit more rapid than normal. Her eyebrows turn up the slightest bit when she pinches harder against her. Ryuko catches the sound she makes in her mouth, and it slowly dies away as they keep kissing.

“Can you hold me?” Ryuko asks when they pull away finally.

“I am holding you.”

“More.”

Satsuki complies and squeezes her arms around her, splays her hands against her back and pulls her down against her chest so that their breasts are pressed together. Ryuko slips her arms around her, too.

“Tight enough?” She feels Ryuko shake her head in response. She sits up better and keeps on cradling her close.

“Closer, I wanna be closer.”

That makes Satsuki laugh—a short, clear laugh. It’s the most beautiful thing Ryuko’s ever heard, and she decides she doesn’t hear it often enough. “I don’t know that that’s possible.” Ryuko whines and keeps shifting against her. “Here, hold on.”

She almost protests when Satsuki lets go of her, but doesn’t move an inch. She moves beneath her, and after a second, Ryuko feels the soft weight of her bathrobe being brought around over her shoulders. The ends don’t quite meet around her back, but Satsuki holds it in place there, so that they’re sharing the warm space inside of it as they cling to each other again.

“Close enough?” she asks.

“Yea, I’ll take it.” Satsuki laughs again at that and Ryuko can feel its soft vibrations against her chest. There’s so much of their skin together she feels drunk on it, never wants to pull away. She admits softly, “I’ve never been close like this to anyone before.” Satsuki rubs her back gently and she goes on, “No one’s ever touched me so nicely—y’know, just held me and stuff. It feels good.”

It’s quiet for the few seconds it takes for Satsuki to stop her heart from aching too much. “Me neither,” she says.

“Woulda hugged you every night, if I could’ve.”

“You can hug me every night from hereon out,” Satsuki assures her. “Well, realistically, probably not every night. I’m sure there will be a few here and there we’ll be forced to spend apart.”

“Stop, that’s the roughest news I’ve heard all week.” Ryuko turns her head into the crook of Satsuki’s neck, and kisses her there once before lying still with her lips pressed to her skin. “I don’t even wanna let go right now.”

“Should I carry you upstairs like this?”

“I know you’re basically ripped, but I’m not sure you could stand up with me like this. And I’m not movin’.” She shifts one of her hands from around Satsuki’s back almost absent-mindedly, to touch her stomach. Her muscles tense at the contact. Ryuko’s hand freezes, suddenly very conscious of setting off something in her sister.

“You’re fine,” Satsuki tells her when she senses her hesitation. “Your fingers are just a bit cold.” Ryuko moves them back slowly to touch her abs, and smiles a little when she feels them contracting again. Satsuki puts an end to it by grabbing hold of her hand. She raises it to her mouth, presses a kiss against her knuckles, and then breathes warm air against her fingers. “Let’s move upstairs, hmm?”

Ryuko nods, watching Satsuki kiss her hand once more to punctuate her sentence. And then, before, she can brace herself, Satsuki is suddenly shifting her backwards, and with her hands against her backside, hoists her up until she’s standing with Ryuko’s legs wrapped about her waist. A surprised “Whoa” escapes her in the process as she tries to maintain her balance, and it has Satsuki smirking once they’re steady. She kisses her against the cheek before letting her down gently.

“Geez, don’t look so smug,” Ryuko says as she bends down to pick her shirt up off the floor. She realizes, on her way back up, that Satsuki’s watching her intently, and so takes her time pulling it back over her head. Their eyes meet again once she’s slipped through it. Ryuko smiles crookedly, so her teeth are showing.

“Don’t look so smug,” Satsuki parrots back as she steps into her space to kiss her. Ryuko finds the edges of her bathrobe, and through some great strength of will, folds them back over each other and tightens the knot holding them in place. Just a few more minutes—the time in takes to clean up downstairs and head to her room—before she can open it again, and lie against Satsuki skin-to-skin.


	25. Chapter 25

Ryuko generously fills the two wine glasses she’s set down against the counter after working the cork from the neck with a bit of effort. She then wedges the bottle, now just past half-empty, under her arm and keeps it pinned there as she takes each of the glasses in hand.

Satsuki, sitting with her legs stretched out over the couch, glances at her an instant when she sees her walk into the living room. Her computer rests over her lap, but Ryuko knows that whatever work she’s doing must not be too pressing; she would have relocated to her office after they’d had dinner were she committed to it. So she makes her way over and leans down carefully to place the glasses onto the end table nearest Satsuki. She hopes the heavy clunk of the wine bottle being set down less than gently will grab her sister’s attention.

When she receives no reaction, she shifts onto her knees, and pretends to look over her shoulder at what she’s doing before leaning in close to nuzzle her neck. She traces a tentative trail to her ear with the tip of her nose before the sound of the laptop being shut makes her smile. Her lips press against her skin.

“How can I help you?” Satsuki asks as one of her arms snakes around to pull her closer. Ryuko flushes now that Satsuki’s actively working her way into her space. She clears her throat and manages to get back onto her feet again before being roped in entirely.

“Here,” she says, reaching for the glasses again. “Have a drink with me; you’ve been working hard all week.”

Satsuki scans Ryuko up and down as she stands there with both glasses in hand—wearing a shirt that stops mid-thigh, large enough that the collar threatens to slip over her right shoulder. She seems to consider something for a moment before taking one of the glasses, and with only the slightest ounce of hesitation, sets it right back down where Ryuko picked it up from.

“I’ll pass on the drink, actually,” she says, eyeing the glass. “But go ahead. It won’t stop me from enjoying you.”

Ryuko takes a drink herself, using the glass to hide her face for a few seconds. Satsuki leans out of her seat to tug her forwards, until Ryuko’s knees hit the edge of the couch, and keeps pulling so she has no choice but to join her where she sits.

She braces herself against her sister’s shoulders, and settles herself down purposefully in her lap. She shifts there restlessly until she’s comfortably close enough, and then takes another sip of her drink. She kisses Satsuki, open mouthed, right after.

“Thanks,” she says when they pull away. “Tastes like wine.” Ryuko hums.

“It’s one of the nice bottles.” Satsuki’s eyes flit again to her own untouched glass sitting off to the side. Ryuko continues, “…Don’t mind having it all to myself.”

“I suppose I’m not going anywhere tomorrow,” Satsuki relents, not without their exchanging a few glances first. She raises the glass to her lips after stopping to clink it lightly against Ryuko’s. A pleasant chiming sound rings out.

They sit there a minute, watching each other, until Ryuko says, “Tell me a story.”

“What about?”

“I dunno… anything.” She shrugs, seems to think for a second, and then revises her statement. “Anything about you.” Her free hand wanders around the back of her neck as she threads her fingers through the finer hairs there; maybe it’s why Satsuki takes a bit longer to answer than she normally would.

“I think you know most things there are to know about me.”

“Even if that were true—doesn’t mean I’ve heard all your stories,” Ryuko insists. She smiles a little when Satsuki looks down into her glass. “I know—tell me ‘bout the first time you got wasted. Like, really wasted.”

Their eyes meet again and Satsuki’s eyebrows rise a bit when she sees Ryuko grinning. She clears her throat. “I, uh—I don’t think that makes for a very fun story, to be honest... If that’s what you were hoping for.”

Understanding hits and she answers almost sheepishly, “Yeah, guess my first drunk story isn’t great either, now that you mention it.”

So Satsuki shares another with her, one that features Uzu and Nonon, and the memory is tinged with more happiness than she remembers having been in her life at that point in time. She finishes both her story and her glass of wine after a bit, and Ryuko takes over for her. She talks a mile a minute, and captivates her enough that eventually the last of the bottle’s contents are split between the both of them without Satsuki especially noticing.

“Oi, you listening?” Ryuko asks when Satsuki becomes preoccupied with gliding her hands up her thighs.

“Of course.” She plays with the hem of her shirt and hums as she tries to bring back Ryuko’s last words to mind. She parrots them to her as soon as she finds them, “—wasn’t ever interesting, though.”

“What wasn’t?” Ryuko probes with a small smile, though she lets her hands fall over Satsuki’s all the while, prompting them further up, underneath her shirt.

When they reach her hips, Ryuko watches realization sink in, in the way Satsuki’s features change. A soft wonder grows in her eyes and she swallows before speaking. “You—you’re not… wearing anything under this.” Like somehow it’s her fault, and not Ryuko’s doing whatsoever.

She scoots closer into her lap, closer than Satsuki might have thought possible. “Yeah, you wish, don’t ya?” Her voice has dropped playfully and she keeps her lips close against her ear. And doesn’t stop herself from breathing more heavily when she feels Satsuki start to play with the waistband of her underwear.

“Thought you were wearing shorts,” she says against her neck, pressing kisses there and up to her jaw.

Her hands seem to stray almost nervously away—though, maybe she’s teasing, Ryuko isn’t sure—and she strokes the soft skin just beneath her navel. Clumsy movements have her finding her waist, and then she moves back down around to the small of her back. When her hands slide their way beneath the fabric of her panties, Ryuko can’t help the way she arches into her.

“You’re soft,” Satsuki mumbles into her skin, with her mouth pressed against the collar of her shirt now. Her head stays slumped there as she repeats herself, “So soft…”

With her sister’s hands on her ass, Ryuko has a hard time keeping her eagerness in check. But she has enough sense, in hearing the slightest drawl in Satsuki’s voice, to thread her fingers gently through her hair, and guide her head back to cradle it so she can see her face.

“Sats,” she murmurs, stopping to punctuate herself by giving her a small kiss. Satsuki’s eyes find hers with a bit of effort; they’re glazed over. Her cheeks have grown flushed. Ryuko smiles at her. “You hanging in there?”

Satsuki nods. Her hands, still wandering, grab her more firmly as she tries to lean in for a kiss. Her eyes fall shut when she succeeds in pulling Ryuko’s bottom lip between her own, and she keeps them so even after they’ve parted.

“Sleepy?” Ryuko whispers after alighting soft kisses from the corner of her mouth up to her cheek. She then takes the time to study Satsuki and traces the side of her face lightly with her fingertips. She looks peaceful.

“A little.”

That makes her laugh. “Since when are you such a lightweight, huh? We’re two to a bottle.”

“They’re big.”

“Thanks.” Ryuko smiles, and it takes Satsuki a minute to remember the position of her hands.

She shakes her head, and answers maybe a bit too seriously, “No, I’m talking about the bottles, Ryuko.”

“Mhmm.”

Satsuki takes the silence as invitation to slot her head back down beneath Ryuko’s, to access the skin around her collar with her mouth, rather than answering. And when her hands travel lower still, they’re promptly moved away from where they’ve found a home. Ryuko takes them in her own and links their fingers. She kisses her, too, until she’s distracted enough to let her shift off her lap without much protest. A small whine still makes her complaints known, though.

“Come cuddle,” Ryuko offers as a compromise, pulling Satsuki with her as she lies down across the couch.

Satsuki staggers herself on top of her, enjoys the feeling of her hand running through her hair. She’s too far-gone to return much attention, apparently, because all she does is slump there. One hand still manages to find its way lazily up her shirt. Her breathing slows and levels after just a short while. Ryuko shifts to try and look at her.

“Hey, Sats?” she says. “Sats,” she repeats, this time a bit louder. It succeeds in drawing her eyes open.

“I’m tired.”

“Are you good? Let me know, ok?”

“I’m fine, Ryuko.” She says it as though thinking otherwise would be absurd.

“You eat enough today?”

She nods.

“You weren’t already drinking before, were ya?” She usually holds her liquor well enough that Ryuko might not have noticed—it’s plausible.

But she shakes her head.

Ryuko sighs, kisses her temple firmly, and shifts her weight aside after a second to shimmy off the couch. “Ok, I’m gonna get you some water. I’ll be right back,” she tells her, though she isn’t sure Satsuki’s entirely registering everything she’s saying.

She walks quickly to the kitchen, grabs a glass, and stands there as she waits for the water to reach the top. Her buzz is fading a bit now that Satsuki’s behavior has forced her to sober up a bit. It isn’t normal, she doesn’t think—to be this affected after so little. They might’ve paced themselves better, but she’s seen Satsuki handle much more in much less time.

Ryuko downs half the glass herself once it’s full, and fills it again before walking back into the living room. Satsuki isn’t passed out, but her eyes have started to dart back and forth as she tries to center the ceiling spinning overhead. Ryuko helps her sit up, hands her the water, and watches her drink.

“The whole thing,” she instructs. Satsuki does as she’s told. A hand finds its way to her forehead, then. Ryuko keeps it pressed there, and her eyebrows furrow as she tries to gauge her temperature.

“’M not sick,” Satsuki says once she’s finished off the water. She bats away Ryuko’s hand so it isn’t pressed against her head anymore.

“I’m just tryna help.” She lies back down next to her, and strokes her cheek softly. “I thought your limit was a lot higher than this.”

She doesn’t answer to that, but instead admits, “My head…kinda hurts.”

“Wanna head to bed?”

Satsuki nods, and then asks, “You, too, right?”

“Yeah, ‘course I’ll come.” She stands up from where she’s lying and holds out her arms for Satsuki to anchor herself. “Come on.”

She worries that all of the alcohol has yet to hit her, and would rather she be upstairs before her coordination starts to suffer too much. Satsuki holds onto her. Her first few steps out are decently measured, but she devolves by the time they’re halfway to the stairs.

Ryuko can’t help but giggle. “My god, Sats. Help me out a little. You got this.” But they only make it up several steps before Satsuki, holding onto the railing, decides to sit herself down right there.

“Nope, not an option. Checkpoint’s up there.”

Satsuki leans her head between her knees and says, “I just need a minute.”

“You gonna be sick?” Ryuko asks, bending down to place a hand against her back.

“No… just dizzy.” She tries to shift back up and Ryuko catches her before she can begin to fall, making a crutch of herself so they can keep climbing. There’s a small twitch in Satsuki’s eyebrows and her eyes start to close. She’s thinking. “I shouldn’t’ve…” she says, then clears her throat. “It’s the meds, is all.”

Ryuko almost drops the hold she has on her. “Sorry, what?” When Satsuki doesn’t answer immediately, she presses, “D’you just say ‘meds’? What meds? Since when are you on meds?” They’ve stopped walking now, and Satsuki leans her head against Ryuko’s shoulder.

“They’re just meds… I meant to tell you before.”

“Yeah, that woulda been good to know. God, Sats.” She tries to keep a clear head as she starts them up the stairs again and into her room. There’s a panic starting in her—she can feel it at the pit of her stomach—but she tries to rationalize with herself. Surely Satsuki would be responsible enough to know whether or not she should be drinking with… whatever it is she’s on.

She slumps on the bed and Ryuko tries to catch her eyes when she speaks to her. “Hey, can ya tell me where they are, please? The meds you were talkin’ about?”

“In my room,” Satsuki answers in a drawl. She leans back on the mattress and stays there flat on her back with her eyes closed. “”M sorry, Ryuko.”

“Can you be more specific?”

She takes a minute to answer, but Ryuko can see her collecting her words, so she doesn’t press her. The alcohol’s already in her system anyways; a few seconds more won’t make a difference. “On the shelf thing, in my closet,” she says eventually, gesturing in the air at an imaginary shelf.

“Ok, I’ll be right back.”

Ryuko walks quickly across the hall and pulls open Satsuki’s closet doors once she reaches them. A curtain of shirts on hangers blocks the shelf from her line of sight, so she shoves them back with her hand to clear the way. She was expecting a bottle. It takes her a second to locate the little box of tablets instead, fairly plain except for the brand name across the front. She unsheathes the sheet inside, as though to make doubly sure she’s found what she was looking for, and then slides it back in when she sees a handful of the tablets missing.

 _See accompanying prescribing information_.

Those words on the box do little to help her. If Satsuki has the prescription sheet around, it isn’t anywhere she can see it. Ryuko sighs, impatient, and pats her pockets until she finds the one where she’s stored her phone. She looks up the name of the drug on the box, tries not to scare herself when she reads through lists of side effects, and only settles down after a few sites tell her it’s probably fine. _Avoid alcohol_ —that’s what most of them say. _Can make symptoms worse._ Nothing life-threatening given a single instance, nothing she needs to make a trip to the ER for.

She lets her weight fall against the doorframe when relief hits. The box goes back where she found it, as do the shirts where they hung before, and then she walks out the room, still reading on her phone. She forces herself to put her investigation on pause when she makes it to her bed again. Her phone finds its way onto her nightstand and she crawls onto the mattress.

“ _Imouto_ …” Satsuki beckons her. She lets herself be pulled closer, and Satsuki cradles her face as she looks at her. Her thumb runs across her cheek while her other hand scratches softly behind her ear. “You’re so cute… beautiful,” she tells her when Ryuko hums. Her eyebrows have drawn together, and Ryuko thinks she’s about to see her tear up.

“Yeah?” she says, leaning down to kiss her. “I think you’re cute beautiful, too.” She feels her smile against her lips. 

“Thank you.”

“C’mon. Let’s get in bed.”

Satsuki gives sitting up one halfhearted try before Ryuko helps her at it. She finds the edge of her shirt and lifts it over her head. Her hands are loosening the button and zipper of her pants when Satsuki suddenly finds the motivation to contribute to the effort. She lifts her hips to help slide them off, and then tugs a bit indelicately at Ryuko’s shirt, to pull it up her back.

Ryuko ignores the attempt, and reaches for the shirt Satsuki sleeps in before trying to get it over her head. “Quit moving.”

“We don’t need that,” Satsuki tells her, pushing away the hand holding the shirt. “We can sleep like this.” She reaches around her back and unclasps her own bra with surprising speed for someone so inebriated. The straps slide over her shoulders, and Ryuko loses all capacity for coherent thought for a few seconds. Satsuki takes the lapse as opportunity to close the space between them.

“Shit—wait, wait,” she says, trying not to let her voice waver. Satsuki’s breasts press against her shirt and she places her hands over her shoulders to push her the slightest bit back. “The shirt is going on now.”

Satsuki stays put where Ryuko holds her, but her eyes fall lazily to her mouth. She absentmindedly bites at her own lip to stimulate herself, and then says, “Will you touch me, Ryuko?”

“F-fuck, just—put the shirt on, please,” she says all at once. Satsuki lets her pull it over her head, then watches intently as Ryuko steps the slightest bit away to change herself. She tries not to pout at the lack of attention.

“C’mon, don’t make that face,” Ryuko tells her as she comes closer again. She leans in to kiss her pout away with a tender slowness that has Satsuki humming. Her hands find Ryuko’s face, and she holds her just so as she kisses back—grazing her with her teeth before sucking against her bottom lip.

Her tongue moves against hers languidly enough so as to be sloppy, yet not without intention. She’s purposeful enough in the way she kisses that Ryuko can’t help but think of where else she’d like her mouth. The hand she has in Satsuki’s hair curls gently against her scalp.

“Touch me,” Satsuki pleads again, this time running her hands up under her own shirt to do the job herself. Ryuko feels herself burn up at that. “And kiss my neck.”

Her head spins for an instant when she finds herself pushed onto her back. The weight of Ryuko’s body presses against her, between her legs, and her lips tickle the sensitive skin just below her ear. “Here?” Ryuko asks breathily.

Satsuki nods quickly. Her fingers thread through Ryuko’s hair as kisses stray lower down her neck. She nips and bites between the soft, wet passing of her lips. She finds her pulse and settles over it—mouths there carefully before clamping down hard. Satsuki gasps, and Ryuko keeps sucking against her skin, to hear that note rise to a whimper. She doesn’t let up until she’s all but squirming under her.

Nails claw gently against her lower back, where one of Satsuki’s hands has crept up her shirt. She’s never heard her make sounds like that, unreserved in the way she draws them out and lets them lilt before fading off to something breathy. It raises goose bumps over her arms, up her neck, around her scalp. Her heart beats in time with Satsuki’s—she can feel if fluttering against her lips when she kisses over the mark she’s left.

“More,” Satsuki says quietly. Ryuko almost laughs, a soft puff of air through her nose.

“I think you might kill me in the morning as it is…” She thumbs at the fresh bruise on her neck. The look in Satsuki’s eyes begs more convincing than that. “…And I don’t want you to regret anything.”

“I won’t.”

“Okay.” She lays a kiss over her forehead. “I’d love to hear that sometime when you’re sober.”

Ryuko’s tone is final. Satsuki realizes she’s more tired than she’d thought, anyways, and sighs a vaguely disappointed, “Okay,” before letting it go.

They pull back the covers and Ryuko makes sure to wrap her up properly once they’ve settled close together. Satsuki’s eyes are already starting to lid over by the time she’s tucked in.

“Ya did a real number on yourself… mixing that stuff,” she whispers. “Coulda been worse, though.” She doesn’t expect to receive an answer, but after several seconds, she does.

“…I meant to tell you. Really.”

Ryuko hums.

“I just hated all of it,” Satsuki continues.

“Hated what?” she prompts after a bit of quiet.

“Going to the doctor, ‘n everything… I hated it so much.” She isn’t meeting her eyes—Ryuko thinks she probably isn’t really focusing on anything in particular. But even still, she catches the weight they carry as she speaks. She takes a deep breath followed by a long exhale, like she’s trying to steady herself. “We talked about getting meds for me and I had to tell her things and I don’t think she knew how hard it was, to talk about those things like that. I mean—” Her voice cracks the slightest bit. “I didn’t even—I didn’t say that much, but I really thought I was gonna cry. It was so horrible. I hated it.”

“I’m really proud of you,” Ryuko tells her. She draws her thumb against the side of her face to sooth her, pushes her hair back behind her ear, and presses her lips to her forehead again, and then her temple. “Doing that takes grit, y’know.” Satsuki swallows.

“I suppose it was worth it, if this ends up fixing things. I got referred to someone, too, but I’d like not to go.”

“Well, even if they don’t…fix things, it’s not the end of the world. We’ll work on it.” She takes Satsuki’s hand in her own and links their fingers. “And I’m always willin’ to go with you to that kind of stuff, if ya want me there. Ok? You don’t hafta do it alone.”

Satsuki nods. The corners of her lips quiver for an instant, but she manages to say, “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore… And I don’t wanna think about her.”

“Okay,” Ryuko says. She goes on brushing her fingers through the top of her hair for a bit. “You want me to talk? Tell you a story or something?” Satsuki shrugs.

“So long as I can hold you.”

Ryuko tightens her embrace to press them closer together, and pets Satsuki’s hair until it puts her to sleep against her chest.

* * *

 

An unbearable dryness in her mouth wakes her in the morning. Her head spins and aches when she lifts it up to see the space beside her in bed is empty. She feels anxious, for some reason—can’t quite place what it is that makes it so. There’s a glass sitting on the nightstand, the one Ryuko sleeps closest to, so she makes her way over to it. She drinks it all nearly in one go before plopping down against the pillows, and falling back to sleep. 

She wakes a second time when Ryuko walks into the room. It’s impossible to tell how much time has passed, but her head hurts less than it did earlier. The sound of a tray being set down against the nightstand is surprisingly less grating than she might have expected it to be. After making sure it won’t fall or tip over, Ryuko kneels on the bed and stares at her a while. Satsuki wills herself awake more quickly, so that she can stare back. She stretches and fights off a yawn.

“Hi,” Ryuko says softly.

“Hi.”

“I brought you some food.”

Satsuki sits herself up and leans back against the headrest. “Smells like eggs,” she says. “And onions.”

“I made omelets. Nothin’ fancy, sorry.”

“I like omelets, thank you.”

She scoots up close to the nightstand and uses it as a table as she picks from the omelet with her fork. When she finally looks up she realizes how quickly she’s eating—Ryuko’s hardly torn through half her portion. She was hungrier than she’d realized.

“It’s really good,” she tells her.

“Thanks. Figured it would help some.” She waits until Satsuki’s finished her plate to ask, “How bad’s your hangover?”

“I’ve had worse.”

“You wanna keep sleeping it off?”

“No, I think I should get up. Take a shower.”

Ryuko nods through her last bite before setting her plate down. She comes closer to Satsuki in the process, and takes the opportunity to lean a ways further to give her a small kiss—chaste but laden with affection. When she pulls away, the look on her face is open, honest. Her eyes dart to Satsuki’s, and then away again.

“You kinda had me scared for a bit last night,” she admits. “I’m glad it ended up being nothin’.”

“I’m sorry.” Satsuki’s gaze shifts to her lap before rising again. “I don’t know what to say; I was stupid.”

“N-No, I shouldn’t’ve insisted, when you first said you didn’t wanna drink…” She swallows and her mouth twitches, like she’s about to say something, but she doesn’t.

“I should have been more aware of the side effects… The doctor told me to wait a week, to see how I responded to everything, before touching alcohol. It’ll be a week today, but still…”

Ryuko stays quiet. She finds her sister’s hand and slots their fingers together. They fidget nervously as she begins to collect her thoughts. “Is there a reason why you didn’t tell me?” she asks finally.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I planned on getting around to it. I just never really knew how to bring it up. It wasn’t…a secret I was trying to keep from you.”

She raises an eyebrow at that. “Last night, before you drank. That woulda been a good time, I think. Any time before that, really.” The way she says it sounds more guarded than berating.

“It has nothing to do with my trusting you,” Satsuki assures her. “I trust you more than anyone.”

“I’m not tryna make it a big deal or nothing. I dunno, I just thought you would tell me that kind of stuff, I guess.”

Satsuki disengages their twined hands momentarily to get herself out from beneath the covers, and comes closer to Ryuko, on the edge of the bed. “Honestly,” she says, looking down at her feet. “If there was a lack of trust in the equation, if was only self directed. I didn’t know how I’d take to the meds—I still don’t know. I just didn’t want to breed any false hopes in you. In both of us. That’s all, really.”

“I don’t care about that.” She then adds quickly, “I mean, I _do_ care if it works. Like, I want you to get to a good place. But I’m not gonna be…disappointed like that if your meds don’t work.”

“I wouldn’t blame you. If it frustrates me, it must frustrate you, too.”

“You don’t frustrate me,” Ryuko tells her. She uses her hand to push Satsuki’s hair away from her face, to see her better. “And I’m happy to hear you’re trying to find a way to heal from all this—I told you last night, I don’t know if you remember.”

“I wasn’t so drunk that I can’t remember that.”

“You were a little out of it.” The sound of Ryuko’s semi-laughter as she says so dispels some of the tension wound up in Satsuki’s shoulders. She scoots over to fill the remaining space between them, and grabs tightly onto Ryuko. Her arms fall around her. She buries her face in the crook of her neck and stays there a while, breathing her in. It's a silent demonstration of her gratitude.

And then, once she’s lain there long enough, she presses her lips to Ryuko’s neck before moving away from where she has her cradled. She stands and prompts Ryuko up, too, with a small tug against her hand. Her posture squares itself and she stands tall, the way she always does, with no indication that she came close to falling apart in the past twelve hours.

Ryuko knows she feels comfortable enough around her not to pretend, and that it must then be for her own sake that she carries herself so.


End file.
